


Soulmates Never Die

by kxkka



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Books, Conspiracy Theories, M/M, Revolution, Slow Burn, lots of thinking about things, nerding about fake history, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:32:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 72,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9378599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxkka/pseuds/kxkka
Summary: In a world where the most important thing you can do with your life is to find your given soulmate, get married and have children, John Laurens struggles with trying to stay true to himself, even if it means living outside of society, at least inside his head.He reads, and he thinks, and he researches, and he writes, trying to make sense of it all, trying to understand and maybe, someday, make others understand, that the world is not really as it seems. That there's no one way things have to be. That life isn't simple, it's messy and it's painful and it's right. That they're not free. That soulmates are a lie.AKA the super slow-burn Soulmates AU that's more revolution and reflections on freedom than actual romance. Or, also, the one that takes itself way too seriously. *includes fake history quotes and me trying too hard*





	1. The Reveal

 

 

_"But however many things humanity achieved in our quest to rebuild ourselves, nothing was more meaningful than our natural pairings. Soulmateship took a new level of importance in the years following the Final War. Strong families are the cornerstone of our continuous growth and the engine behind our thriving Nation, and the undeniable bond between Soulmates proved to be the most transcendent way in which we are human."_

_-"History of the New Nation" (2076, Nation City)._

_December 1st, 2137_

John Laurens always knew he'd have a proper soulmate. It was in his blood. He belonged to an important family of well established businessmen and politicians, all with successful marriages and a horde of children each. Fate would clearly bless him with all he needed to fulfil his family's legacy and live a full life with everything everyone in the Nation dreamed of.

Soulmate.  
Marriage.  
Children.

     It was the easiest equation, and everybody knew the answer was happiness. And the one unknown variable was revealed to everyone by age seventeen.  
He'd heard about places where it wasn't such a big deal. More humble neighbourhoods; the Outsider colonies, of course. But at the core of Nation City, where he'd lived all his life, every December 1st was a huge celebration: a gigantic ballroom, men and women dressed in their finest clothes, and a handful of teenagers trying to look their best and hiding their anxiousness. Some were afraid it would hurt, others were nervous about the identity to be revealed. All of them were excited to start the rest of their lives. That's what John knew. He remembered when his sister had gone through the Reveal a few years prior. Their father kept reminding Martha not to chew her nails, and she opted to clench the side of her dress until it wrinkled, somehow unnoticed. John recalled her watery eyes as she promised he'd always be welcome at her new home, with her husband. She talked about how, soon, he would have nieces and nephews to spoil. She was nervous, yes, but she was also incredibly sure of the happiness that awaited her in just a few hours time. And now, two years later, she did seem content. She was engaged to her soulmate and they'd moved in together six months ago, in the midst of the chaos of wedding planning and Leo's budding law career.  
     They were happy. 

     Was John happy?

     He was definitely anxious. He wasn't really afraid it would hurt, not after surviving countless brawls at school. He'd always had a tendency of running his mouth, and physical pain was part of his routine at this point. As for the name of his soulmate, he didn't really give it much thought; it's not like anyone that could appear on his arm would be preferable to any other one. He didn't care for the girls he knew, not like that at least. It's true it could happen, that his soulmate wouldn't be of his same social standing, that it'd be a name not matching anyone at the ballroom and his disinterest would be justified, but it was unlikely. A kid at school once spoke of his weird aunt; her soulmate was a man of a low-income family and she'd left to be with him after the struggle to find him. It was a matter of embarrassment for the family, of course. Remembering that story didn't help John's nerves.  
     The mingling time was over, at last, and he was standing in line with the rest of the seventeen-year-olds getting on the stage. For reasons unknown, in exactly fifteen minutes, it would happen. They would extend their left arms so everyone could see the moment when a slight tingling became a burning, stinging pain, before revealing, inked to the skin on their forearms, the name of their soulmates. The rest of the evening would be spent with families hugging each other and kids awkwardly kissing their soulmate's cheeks. Their parents would make plans on where they'd spent the next fifty Christmases and Thanksgivings. John didn't know what scared him most: going through all that, or not going through it at all. It was beyond the point to decide either way, since he was already stretching out his arm and starting to feel the tingling as the clock struck midnight. The first seconds of December 1st were greeted with held breaths. John closed his eyes and tried to keep his mind blank, but his subconscious couldn't help but bring to his thoughts a face he knew his arm would not match. His heart pounded and his breathing became staggered as he stared into the memory of the blue eyes of the shy boy from History class. Before he could dwell on that though, he was opening his eyes to thunderous applause and people hugging all around him. A doe-eyed, short girl was standing next to him with a small hopeful smile. Her arm read 'John'. His arm read 'Martha'. It was meant to be.

     Realisations don't come like blinding flashes of thunder. There's no neon sign at the forefront of your mind telling you a universal truth. It's a slow thing, an itch at the back of your mind that starts making its way through your thoughts, latching itself onto other ideas that make it strong, until it's suddenly spread everywhere in your brain and you have no idea how it got there, or how you were blind to it before.  
     John has no clue when this idea started to spread. But it was at that moment, staring into his soulmate's shining eyes, that the whole thing clicked and the last of the connections were made within his brain. It made no difference what his arm said, no difference who this hopeful girl was that stared at him in awe. He couldn't love her. He couldn't have loved any girl in that room or in any other room. As the residual image of Benny persisted in his mind he understood why he was never interested in the reckless fooling around the other kids in their pre-Reveal years indulged in.  
     It was unthought of. Unheard of. It wasn't something that happened. Whatever he was feeling went against the very principles of society. Men loved women who bore their children who carried on their legacy. It was the whole meaning of life.

 

Soulmate.  
Marriage.  
Children.

     He smiled kindly at Martha as their fathers shook their hands and patted their shoulders. He thought of his sister’s smile when she introduced him to Leo, and he tried.

-

     Eliza kept staring at John Laurens from across the room, at his wide-eyed expression and the thin line his lips made when he smiled at his newly found soulmate. She remembered him from Biology class last year. He was a nice guy, and a dedicated lab partner. She wondered what he might be feeling right now, his heart soaring with the endless possibilities his perfect, happy life lay in front of him.

"Just let me get her out of here!" her sister's angry whispering registered somewhere in the back of Eliza's mind. She looked down at her left forearm once again, just to check if her eyes might have been fooling her. Her pristine pale skin stared back at her, a mocking display of the hole she felt within her chest.

     Everyone made guesses about their soulmate through the years. Will he be tall? Will she be funny? Will he laugh with his whole body? Will she get a wrinkle on her brow when she concentrates? Will he be calm and kindhearted? Will she be knowledgeable and wise?  
_Will he exist?_ was not a question Eliza ever asked herself. It was a given. If there was anything in life you could be sure of was that there was someone out there destined to love you. It was a heartwarming knowledge. It meant hope. It meant a bright future, no matter what. You would always have something to look forward to. You made plans, placed expectations on that mystery figure for the better part of seventeen years. Eliza had dreamed of night walks in the park, holding hands, illuminated by the moon and the stars and her soulmate's tender gaze. Christmas dinners with her sisters and their families. The three of them embraced by loving husbands, children running around the table. Her father, older but smiling brighter than ever with his grandchild bouncing on his lap. Where had all those moments gone? The images still played so vividly in her head. They had seemed like time-travelling memories, yet to happen but inherently true. Were they actually lies? Cruel teases of fate? Would they eventually fade, or would they continue to haunt her for the rest of her lonely days?

     Eliza was brought back to reality when Peggy squeezed her hand. Her younger sister was smiling at her but her eyes were hardened. Eliza's senses started coming back to her slowly. All around Peggy everything looked blurred, but she could hear a buzzing of whispers. The particular sound of toned down words judging and gossiping. As her vision started to clear up, she felt sick. Kids were staring. Adults were fidgeting and shooting her nervous looks. She could almost touch the invisible wall that separated her from the rest of the world. Everyone seemed to have deemed it necessary to keep a safe distance from her family, as if being an Unmarked was a contagious disease.

"We're leaving. Come on, E." Angelica's voice pulled her up as her father walked in front of them, opening up a path to the exit. She stole one last glimpse at John and Martha. Maybe happiness wasn't meant for everybody.


	2. The Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years later.

  _"I believe I felt myself drawn to John from the moment we met. It was something I had never experienced before, always keeping myself apart from any intense social interaction. I couldn't understand it, there seemed to be no specific reason why I wanted to know more about him, and, even more unsettling, why I wanted to share myself with him. He was my first friend. The first person I ever felt connected with. I'd like to think that, even then, there was some small and hidden part of me that understood how much he would come to mean to me -but even I am not conceited enough to think myself that wise."_

_-Hamilton's journal, March 5th, 2173._  

 

_April 1st, 2142_

Alexander sat on the ledge of the water tower, the highest building at the Valley Forge Outsider Community. Beneath him, the Tallmadge farm stood proudly, connecting the fields and houses that scattered across the grass and formed his home. He came up here often to think, and this was a special afternoon, a calm before the storm that would change his life forever. He turned his head and tried to make out something in the horizon besides the grey-ish blur that he knew was Nation City. He would soon be a part of it, that place that held life, and people, and possibilities. He wondered if maybe someone over there was looking out and wondering about him. His hand wandered absently to his wrist. Maybe even _his_ someone.

_At Valley Forge, the Reveal was a very low key occurrence. Alexander was sitting on his bed anxiously as the clock stroke midnight and it was finally December 1st. For a few seconds, nothing happened and he shifted uncomfortably. Then, pain. A searing, burning pain on his arm; he screamed. His grandmother was next to him, trying to soothe him, with what seemed to be a disappointed look on her face. Alexander knew she’d expected him to be tougher, but the pain was too great for him to resist the urge to clamp his hand on his wrist, trying helplessly to stop the process. After a minute, it was over. His grandmother sighed loudly. He opened his eyes and removed his hand to reveal the name of his Soulmate._

_Elizabeth._

_He would meet this girl and fall madly in love and be together forever. They would build a family, a legacy. He would be happy and complete. It could happen at any moment; when he least expected it, his life would change forever and he’d smile as wide as his parents had when they looked at each other. This was it, he would be safe, he wouldn’t be alone._  

_Alexander frowned. There were no Elizabeths at Valley Forge._

-

     They left the next day at 4 in the morning. Alexander’s grandmother drove him to the edge of Nation City, to the nearest train station, and said her goodbyes. A kiss on the cheek. A tight hug and a fond smile. A few words of reassurance. A deep sigh. It was already 7 when he climbed onto the train and settled himself comfortably on a single seat. He knew the trip would be long so he’d come prepared: his current readings, his laptop, and a notebook, handy in his backpack. Everything else was carefully packed in a tattered suitcase that might burst open if you stared at it too hard. It’d be two more hours before he arrived at the University building, and he planned to take advantage of them. After the fifth chapter of his novel, and as the train entered the fourth ring of the city and the buildings started to grow in size, a child-like wonder took over Alex; he found himself gazing out the window in awe. The last time he’d visited the City he was barely 3 years old, one of the few times he'd traveled with his parents, before they passed. And even though he saw images of it all the time, it was nothing compared to the real thing. The train ran on elevated tracks, but he still had to look up and strain to see the top of the buildings. By the time he entered the third ring, the strain often proved fruitless and he felt dwarfed by these monumental skyscrapers. For Alexander, the tall vastness of Nation City held life, and people, and possibilities. Valley Forge had seemed so small and plain, too tight a box to fit his ambitions. The crowded, busy city was a breath of fresh air. 

     At 9, he finally reached his stop. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his legs before grabbing his bags and taking in the sight of the city before him. It was only a block of walking the empty sidewalks before he found himself filling in paperwork and examining maps, trying not to stumble into anyone as he made his way to his dorm room. Alexander opened the door with a smile: the place was bigger than he expected, a small kitchenette on the side, two desks, two beds; and a roommate staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face, eyes slightly widened. He didn’t make a move to brush away the stray curl that was falling over his right eye.

“You must be my roommate! Hi! I’m Alexander Hamilton, it’s very nice to meet you.” He extended his hand and the other man gave a small smile as he shook it. The startled expression from before had faded in a second.  
“John Laurens. It’s a pleasure, Alexander.” His voice was calm and smooth. Effortlessly polite.  
“So John, what are you studying? Are you new here, too? I’m not sure how they figure out the whole roommate thing, maybe it’s better to get people with more experience to guide us new kids around, or perhaps we’d be more suited with others just as lost as we are? I guess if I were in charge I’d kind of want to see the mishaps of unaware freshmen, but that would be an abuse of power, right? I doubt they'd use humor as a basis for any important decisions like that.” Alexander sat on his bed, placing his backpack and suitcase on the floor, unaware that John had tried to answer his questions before being cut off by his roommate’s outspoken stream of consciousness.

     So, finally, John had a roommate. A loud one. A talkative one. An unsettlingly energetic one.  
"Well, I've been here for two years, so I guess I'd be your guide, Alexander." John didn't want a roommate. "Let me know if you need anything." He smiled brightly. He really did not want a roommate. "I believe somewhere in there you asked about my career path? I'm doing Nation History, trying to focus on early post-War stuff."  
Alexander's eyes widened with an excited shine and John's breath hitched.

-

     Not many people of high social standing attended college, and John was grateful for that. There were only a handful of kids at Nation City University who might have crossed paths with him at social events in his neighbourhood, most deciding to devote themselves to their families' businesses. Given the relatively low number of students, the Council had no problem providing tuition-free education for anyone who might want it, granting a lovely illusion of social mobility, and giving John a safe space to walk around without getting recognised by his supposed equals.  
With a few exceptions.

"If it isn't the elusive Mr. Laurens."  
"Angelica Schuyler, to what do I owe the pleasure?"  
"Knock it off, John, we both feel the same way about the dance of pleasantries imposed on us by our families." Angelica hugged him like a long lost friend, and John smiled. There weren't many people in his family's circle that he liked, but the Schuylers were something else.  
"It really is good to see you, Angie. I hope we get to share some classes this semester, it's not the same without you shamelessly trying to make our teachers cry."

     Angelica always danced on the edge of correctness. Her father worked for the Council, but he had always seemed like a kind and moderate man in John's eyes, and it showed in the way he had raised his three daughters. John remembered the controversy after Eliza's Reveal, and the dignity with which the family had held themselves. Being an Unmarked was seen as a punishment, a sentence that deemed one unfit for society's mandates. But the Schuylers had never wavered in their love for Eliza, as many families did for their own children, and Angelica had become a strong defender of her sister's rights. John considered her an ally, if only in his head, and would constantly search her words for any hints that she might someday be a part of his little revolution.

"I'm sure we will, John. See you around!" She waved as she walked away and John finally remembered what he was doing in the middle of the hallway and resumed his walk outside campus, to Lafayette and Hercules' apartment.

-

    John knocked twice and turned the key to his friends' place. His head was still aching from the conversation with Alexander that morning and he was looking forward to working with them for a few hours. The alcohol wouldn't hurt either.

"We're in the kitchen!" Hercules yelled from the other room as John made an acknowledging noise and dived toward his usual spot on the couch.  
"So? I'm waiting for the gossip on your new roommate!" Lafayette emerged with a lopsided grin and an eager ear.  
"Ugh. He basically spent the whole morning talking my ear off about the History Committee and all the implications of the geographic and demographic changes in society in the last century.” John whined, his head hanging from the edge of the couch where he now laid upside down. His eyes barely focused on his friend’s inverted figure as he stood in front of him.  
“Are you kidding me? Last week you made a scene at the bar when I refused to discuss the circumstances of Nation City’s founding with you for the millionth time. Come on, dear, you live for that crap!”  
“Yeah but-“  
“And you threaten to leave us and find other friends who appreciate your interests basically every other day.” Hercules came out of the kitchen with three beers.  
“It’s just…“ John turned himself and sat properly on the couch, taking the bottle Hercules offered him and facing Lafayette’s grin with a serious expression. “You’re right. It was great, he’s great. As anybody else’s roommate.”  
“John…”  
“Look, he was witty, and funny, and so damn smart it makes no sense at all.” He took a breath. "He’s a believer. Like hardcore, heart-eyes believer.” John took a big gulp of beer and rested his back on the couch properly. “I don’t know why I expected anything else. Wishful thinking maybe. But he started talking about his Elizabeth and showing me his arm and… He hasn’t even met her yet. He doesn’t know this girl and already he’s idolizing her, like meeting her is going to solve every problem he ever had. Like life’s going to magically be rose-tinted as soon as he sets eyes on her.”  
“Man, you know that’s how he’s been taught it is.” Hercules sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t easy being on the outside of such a tight system but John was usually the one calming them down, not this way around. “Doesn’t matter how smart or knowledgeable he is. That’s the powerful thing about this shit. You know this. Hell, you practically taught us this.”  
“I just… I know it was a lot to ask. And frankly I didn’t expect my shitty luck to suddenly decide I needed a break and giving me an amazingly enlightened roomate. It’s just… He had this look. Like… Like a glint in his eyes, you know? He looked at me and it felt like his eyes were saying ‘I _know_ ’. And he kept talking about history with this look and I kept feeling like… Like there were two things happening at once, you know? The conversation we were actually having, all of this Council-curated History coming out of our mouths and at the same time… Something unspoken.” It made no sense. John knew it. He closed his eyes for a second and saw the black ink on Alexander’s forearm. "I don’t know. I guess I just saw myself reflected, trying to catch on to any hints that he might be one of us. Wishful thinking, as I said.”

There was a pause and a heavy silence fell between the three friends. They sipped their beers, each of them immersed in their own thoughts for a few moments.

“I don’t understand though, I thought he was from Valley Forge?"  
“That’s what he said, and what his file said, you're the one who hacked it. I don’t know Laf, maybe _those_ rumors are also shit"  
“Do you think he was lying?"  
“No one would lie about that” Hercules was right. It wasn't common for people from Outsider Colonies to move to Nation City, and the people here looked down on them for choosing to live separated from the rest of society. John wondered why Alex had had no qualms in mentioning where he was from.

“Anyway, I’m just gonna have to be careful around my place now. But we knew that, so. I’ll probably keep a few things here, if you don’t mind.”  
“You know, dear, you could just move in here…"  
“No, I can’t.” he didn’t let Lafayette finish. He knew what he would say. That he didn’t have to pay rent, that they could help him, that his father wouldn’t find out. Except John knew that he would, that even if after years of disagreements he’d finally been cut off from his family, Henry Laurens would most definitely be keeping an eye on him. And he couldn’t find out about his bond with Lafayette and Hercules. He couldn’t find out why he would have preferred to sleep on their old couch rather than room with a believer. “Look, I’ll find a way to make it work, don't worry. Honestly, he seemed so into the whole thing I doubt he’d ever even suspect anything."  
“We should still keep him close. If he’s going to share a room with you he’s bound to get to know you, and if we’re around him we can keep track of what he notices. Best to be on the safe side.” Hercules said. It was true Alexander seemed to be a nice enough person to be around. But if he ever found out their true thoughts he would report them to the Council immediately and they’d disappear forever. They couldn’t risk that. John nodded.

     Later that night, when John left, Lafayette and Hercules shared a look.  
“He’s never spoken like that before. About anyone.”  
“No. He hasn’t."


	3. The Beginning

_"In a way, I am trying to be free by caging myself. I don't have a long-term plan. I keep discovering things about the world that would put me in danger, and in the fear of being discovered, I bury that knowledge in the safe core of our group, where I can't be harmed and every fantasy about living remains forever a dream. Maybe some day, I'll be brave enough to let myself out. Or foolish enough to let myself be caught."_

 

 

_-Laurens' journal, March 25th, 2142._

John couldn't help but feel in awe of Alexander's apparent disregard for social convention. Growing up within the city's elite, John had learned to always be collected and polite, that disagreements were frowned upon, and confrontation was to be avoided at all costs. Even hating such a deceptive system, he was well aware of the safety that sticking to those rules entailed, at least in public forums. Alexander broke every single one of those laws in every conversation he was a part of. He always spoke his mind freely. John found it incredibly refreshing.

“Ugh, you took Historical Thinking your freshman year, right?” Alexander rarely said hello when he entered their room, he always seemed in the middle of a sentence.  
“I take it you’re not too fond of Burr's interpretation of the Historical Documents?”  
“Interpretation? What interpretation? If I needed someone to teach me reading comprehension I wouldn’t be in college! You’d think a subject with the word _thinking_ in its name would imply some of that!”  
“Alexander, did you get in an argument with your professor on the first week of school?”  
“Pfft, no.” John frowned at him. “It was more of a soliloquy, actually.” Alexander smirked and after a second they were both laughing. In just a few days they had developed a strangely familiar dynamic. John found it slightly terrifying.

    Alexander had never met anyone quite like John. When he used to imagine his life in the City, he thought about studying and learning and making his mark in the world. He didn't dwell on the possibility of friends, the only person he wished for was his soulmate. After all, she was the one who would be his partner, complete him and make him stop feeling so alone. There wasn't a designated role for another sort of kindred spirit, but Alex couldn't help but feel that this man sharing a room with him was something other than just a casual acquaintance he would soon forget. He didn't know where to place him in the organised setting of his mind and it bugged him to no end.

    He wondered if John felt anything similar. If City kids were used to having friends like this. The truth was, as much as they talked and shared, he still didn't know much about John's life. He never talked about his family, although he had mentioned that he came from one of the richest neighbourhoods in Nation City. Alex was in awe that he would be there with him, studying. Rich families weren't very keen on sending their kids to university; there was usually an important business to take care of and all the learning necessary could be done on the job. There were cases, of course, when there were a lot of siblings and parents would indulge some of them and let them pursue other careers, but it was rare. Why would anyone with a set path in life risk trying something new?

-

_John still couldn't quite believe the turn his life had taken, and sometimes he expected he'd wake up at his old room in his father's house, shaking with anxiety over another forced date with Martha Jones. It wasn't her fault, she was a lovely woman who would probably have made any man very happy; he just couldn't be her John. It was simple when he practised explaining it: they both had fairly common names, it was entirely possible that Martha's soulmate was just someone else, and this was all a bit of a mix up. He gave it a go but he didn't feel the pull he was supposed to feel with his soulmate; an honest mistake made on the night of their Reveal. They'd just have to keep looking. Even through the nervousness, he had managed to convince himself that his argument was solid and his father would understand. That he could buy himself some time looking for the right Martha while figuring out what to do with himself. But then he found that book.  
_ _He had always enjoyed old stories, and was quite fond of a small and quaint book store that was nowhere near his home. He'd often spend his afternoons browsing their selection, buying a book and reading it on one of the couches in the back, enjoying the comforting smell of old paper. The old lady that worked there never spoke a word besides the bare minimum, but she always smiled at him. John wasn't sure what to think when he brought the book to the check out that day and she frowned at him._

_"Will you be reading this here?"_  
_"I was planning to, yeah"_  
_She pursed her lips. She had never asked that before, and John wasn't sure what she was implying._  
_"Maybe you should take it home, kid."  
_ _Her gaze, cold for the first time, was telling him it wasn't an option. Confused, he nodded and left the store._

_As he read a story of young lovers that shared female pronouns, the pieces in his mind began to fit together. He started paying more attention: the book was lighter than most of which he owned, the paper thinner than the latest paperbacks and worn yellow from time. Even the layout design seemed off, as if it was made for eyes differently accustomed to reading. The binding was worn but unusually sturdy, and he spared a glance at the many books in his shelves that were almost falling apart after being reread half a dozen times. A thought crossed his mind and he held his breath as he searched for the publication details._

_Published by Independent Books._  
_Third edition printed in the United States of America.  
_ _Copyright 2010 by James Talarico._

_United States of America. 2010. John ran his trembling fingers through the printed words. This book had been printed before the war, in a country that no longer existed. It predated the History of the New Nation. Not only that, it validated every wrong feeling that had been in John's chest for the past year. For all his life, probably. It was proof that he was real. It was truth in a form of fiction.  
_ _The story challenged everything he'd ever known about love. No Soulmates, no forced marriages. A love that didn't care about gender, or about status. John devoured its pages, hungry for the feeling of belonging it gave him. He passed on dinner and read on; and when he finished, he started it again. Making small notations in pencil, going over the same paragraphs over and over again. He barely slept that night. He found himself spread in the middle of his bed at 3 in the morning as the realisation dawned on him. This was dangerous._

_-_

      They were getting together almost daily. John didn't always research so much, but he felt it helped his sanity to be around the truth, even if it was just sitting on the floor surrounded by his own writing. Lafayette had recently made an online acquaintance that seemed promising in terms of information, so he was actually excited to develop that bond night after night of chatting and dropping subtle hints. And more often than not, Hercules reminded them that they were still young students and that the world probably needed them to have some fun.  
    So John laughed with his friends over dinner. He watched Hercules' head tilt backwards with a booming laugh; he smiled at the twinkle in Lafayette's eyes as he recounted a witty exchange he had with a classmate. He was aware of his own excitement as he recalled a silly dream involving two shirtless men challenging one another to a duel over a golden turtle's honor. It was wonderful to know that, no matter how shitty and complicated the world might be, they were not alone.  
    Later that night, he tried to sneak back into his dorm room only to find Alexander still awake, sitting on his bed, typing frantically on his computer. John dropped his backpack at the foot of his bed and took off his shoes. He sat on his bed, opposite Alexander's, and stared at the boy.

"D'you ever sleep? Or are you the first test for some kind of weird robot roommate trying to make me feel like I'm slacking off for getting more than 3 hours every night?"  
"I doubt anyone would think you're slacking off what with the endless study sessions you go off to every day"  
    John froze. Alexander was keeping track of his schedule. He swallowed. His roommate hadn't stopped writing and wasn't even looking at him, but he still feared he might notice his heart threatening to climb out of his mouth.  _Divert._  
"Who says I'm off studying and not out drinking every night? Maybe I'm just reeeally good at holding my liquor, how would you know?"  
    Alexander stopped typing. John knew it had been a terrible comeback, but he was exhausted and drained and he really missed living alone. Keeping his act up all the time was not easy, and leaving home was supposed to rid him of that burden. He tried not to get anxious. If Alexander had any suspicions, he would have to be quick to quell them. He went over his Fake Soulmate story, the one he had prepared in advance for the possible case that he'd have to ensure anyone he was a well-behaved member of society. He lost track of how much time had passed since he last spoke.

"You're right. I wouldn't know." Alexander said suddenly. “Guess we don’t really hang out outside of this room, do we? I mean, there's nothing wrong with this place, but there's a limit to the social situations it will force us through. And evidently we've been lacking in the roommate bonding department. Shall we go get drinks tomorrow? I guess I could use a break and I'd be very interested in knowing how many beers it takes for you to be wasted." He smiled. His whole face smiled. He was showing his teeth and his cheeks were a little puffed up and his eyes were almost closed. John had never seen that smile before.

-

    They were on their third drink when it happened. John had taken Alex to a small and cozy bar only a few blocks away from campus.  
"You never talk about your soulmate." Alexander stated it simply, curious. John swallowed and his hand automatically went to scratch the edges of his ever present wristband. He'd memorised a perfect cover-up story before: his soulmate was Martha Thompson, a lovely girl from his neighbourhood. They found each other at their Reveal ball and as soon as he saw her, he knew. She was occupied with her family's business and her own studies, so they couldn't see each other a lot. It was sad but they loved each other so they made it work. Easy. An excuse for her not to appear, an excuse for him not to look for her. A few faked phone calls here and there and the lie was as good as true.

"Oh. Right." John's mind seemed to be working at half its speed. Probably the alcohol. Not great timing for this conversation. "Well, there was this big ball for my Reveal, very typical high society event. They get all the kids together to see their arms and find their matches right away, you know?" Alex didn't know. "Anyway, I'm there and I'm freaking out like everyone and when the clock strikes midnight I look at my arm and..." The lie was perfect. He'd used it before and it worked, leaving no room for questions. It made sense, it was average and unimportant. "...it said 'Martha', which was... well..." _She was there, we fell in love, we are apart now but it's good._ "...unfortunate, because there weren't any girls with that name in my neighbourhood. So yeah. I don't really have a soulmate. Yet."

"Seriously? Is that why you don't talk about it?" John took his phone out of his pocket and distractedly sent a text off to Laf. He'd fucked up. "You should have said something, John! We're the same, you and I." Alexander chuckled, not paying much attention to his roommate's reaction to his words. "I knew there was something there, when we met. I felt some sort of... Kinship, I guess. I'm not sure, it was completely new and I couldn't figure it out. But this must be it. We're both waiting, aren't we? Just looking and waiting, biding our time until we find our soulmates. You know, people back home, they got together fairly quickly. I guess I was a big weirdo, not having my arm match anyone in the community... It wasn't easy, I felt so..." Alexander's face turned sad for a second, but he seemed to shake himself off to go on with a small smile. "It's so important, you know? Finding that person. I guess it makes sense it won't leave much room for anything else. We'll find out soon, I'm sure."

    John couldn't stand to look at Alex's face. Everything he was saying hurt. The connection he was describing, the idea that their whole friendship was based on their soulmate situation was something he could not tolerate. It was part of it all though. He was right: finding your soulmate didn't leave much room for anything else. It wasn't convenient. What more could you think of if you were focused on your own personal key to happiness? One of these days Alexander would find his soulmate and John would become a distant acquaintance, and it was this thought that seemed to bother John more than anything else. Everyone was a placeholder until a soulmate arrived, and he was no exception. He'd never felt more lonely.

    Alexander felt a new wave of hope wash over him. Even in his particular situation, he was not alone. He hadn't known anyone who, like himself, was still looking for their soulmate, and to have John be it, to have him understand, it was more than he could have asked for. He took a deep breath and smiled. This was it, this was when his life would begin. He was in Nation City, the hub of human life, where he _knew_ he could find his Elizabeth. It was fate, she had to be there, near him, waiting for him. And now he had a friend who actually understood what it was like to feel like everything in your life is a prelude to a story that hasn't begun yet.

    He was shaken out of his thoughts by a large man sitting down next to John with ease and confidence.  
"So, you're the roommate?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading and leaving kudos, it makes me so happy!  
> Please do let me know in the comments what you think <3


	4. The New Kid

_"Never was there a war more cruel and more devastating. Never had humanity been so threatened. It is believed the key [...] lay in the biological agents, and their rapid worldwide spread. [...] Not only were the people living at the time decimated, their legacy and their future was nearly wiped from existence. The world would never be the same, it's no wonder it's come to be known as the Final War."_

_-"History of the New Nation" (2076, Nation City)._

 

 John had a plan. He always did. He had dozens of folders in his mind designed to get him out of tricky situations. It happened all too often. Soulmates were a common topic of conversation and his decision to hide his mark with a wristband sometimes invited questions. But it was a calculated risk, all of it was. And now he had stepped off script and was stranded in uncharted territory. He had never been so happy to see Hercules in his entire life.

"So, you're the roommate?" He had sat next to John without hesitation and immediately driven the focus away from him.  
"Yeah. Hi. Alexander, and you are?" He seemed uncertain, wondering if this was one of John's friends or a really confident stranger.  
"Oh come on John! You seriously haven't mentioned me? I'm wounded!" Hercules laughed, bringing John out of his head and back in touch with his words.  
"Alex, this is Hercules Mulligan, one of my closest friends."  
Alexander seemed to relax and was about to open his mouth to speak again when someone else appeared at the table.  
"And I am Lafayette." He sat next to Alexander and smiled brightly at him. "The second one of his _only_ friends."  
"Hey!" John protested.  
"I'd like to think I'm John's friend." Alex started at the same time. "I mean, it's true we don't know a lot about each other but I think we might have passed to friendship territory after that third drink, right?"  
    John paused for a second and took that in. It was only moments before that Alexander had explained their whole relationship through their missing soulmates, and now he was calling John a friend with a small smirk and a hint of something in his voice. As if he was looking for confirmation.  
"I'd be honored to call you my friend, Alexander. Even if you don't like beer."  
That got a reaction from Hercules, who was probably about to start a rant on the history of brewing and the essence of drinking.  
"I'm seriously reconsidering my nice attitude right now, man."  
"It's not that I don't _like_ it, it just seems a bit plain when there's so many other options that include alcohol to consider. Look at the menu here! You've got twenty choices for drinks mixing ingredients I've never even heard of, and you're going to order a beer? That seems like settling to me, and Alexander Hamilton does not settle."

    This went on for a good while, everyone chiming in their opinions and the topic soon drifting into another and another until by the end of the night, they'd already declared war on each other about ten times. Soulmates were not brought up again, and Hercules and Lafayette carried the conversation with ease, the four of them finding a nice rhythm, as if they'd known each other for months. John wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. No matter how much closer they seemed to get, Alexander was still a puzzle, and he found that terrifying.

-

"You ready?"  
    Angelica sat on Lafayette's couch, a firm but wary look in her eyes. She took a deep breath and nodded.  
"Alright, let's do this." John clapped his hands and sat down next to her as Lafayette stood in front of them and Hercules, pacing around the room as he spoke.

"So, around 2050-2051 we have the Final War, a big mess where every big country in the world basically found an excuse to put their weapons to use. The big deal about this whole thing is, not only were cities and entire countries destroyed by bombs, but there was a widespread use of biological agents which made the population decrease to an estimate 1% of the world's total. Which was, well, brutal, to say the least. The remaining people were all scattered across the globe in less-than-optimal situations for the most part, so that number also diminished and there's no way to estimate how many people died because they couldn't find a working civilisation. There's also no way to know how many might have built smaller communities of their own in the deserted continents which are supposed to be filled with radiation but, you know. Life finds a way." John tuned out for a second, following Laf's words in his mind with the knowledge that was already ingrained in him. Groups of people from the Americas had gotten together, lots of talk of miracles and the Universe's wishes for humanity not to die out, and the exodus and resettling of civilised society in the southern hemisphere, where the less amount of bombing had occurred.  
"It was still a radioactive wasteland, albeit less so than Europe, so there were many losses and difficulties in births in the first years, and slowly the remaining population concentrated within what is now known as Nation City. It is said to be as large as any pre-war metropolis, but who knows?"  
    John wondered, not for the first time, what it might have been like to be able to travel. To see different places. Nation City was, as far as anyone knew, the only organised settlement left on Earth, so there was nowhere to go really except for the few Outsider Colonies that surrounded it. He remembered the first time Lafayette had told him about his Realisation, and the array of new fantasies that it brought forward.

_Lafayette was a rich kid, just like John, only from a more homey and relaxed part of Nation City. While John would be surrounded by skyscrapers and business suits, Lafayette found his home among large houses and perfectly groomed front lawns. His doting parents had given him everything he could ever want on a silver platter, and everything he wanted when he was 10 were computers. Most people in Nation City used the various interactive interfaces in regular appliances with ease, but few were interested in plain computers with no_ other _use. Little Lafayette wanted to know how everything worked, and after taking apart various electronics lying around in the house, his parents directed his efforts to computers that wouldn't disrupt the household if they broke. In a few years, his passionate investigation of that world had led him to build his own computer with a secure connection to the Web, and he was an avid participant in online technical discussions. He wished to become an engineer, fascinated by the possibilities that technology provided to improve life for every citizen. When he turned 15, he was faced with a rare event. Whether it was a display of trust or a simple mistake, one of his older online contacts shared with him a link to a secret livechat. Lafayette read with care what was described, as unbelievable as it was, and tried to commit it all to memory when, after just five minutes of chat, the whole thing disappeared and his computer logs were remotely wiped. There was apparently a group of scientists, anthropologists they called themselves, working to find remains of pre-war civilisation. They'd found a small databank that they believed contained medical information, and promised they'd share it as soon as they could with 'the Underground'. Lafayette didn't know what the Underground was or how there could be any new information that the Council didn't already know on ancient society, but there was something else that he couldn't let go. The user sharing this information had geotagged their messages to verify themselves, and it... It made no sense. The location wasn't precise -for security reasons, perhaps?- but the coordinates clearly marked this person was somewhere in what used to be Central America. Around 7000kms north from Nation City. Right in the middle of the radiation zone. A place where no one lived. A place where no one_ could _live. Right?_

"The Council was formed." Hercules picked up from where Lafayette left off before he went off on a tangent. "Allegedly with whoever was left that held any sort of position of power in their previous land, but since there wasn't much way to check, it's safe to assume that it was basically a pick of those who had winked their eyes at the right players during the exodus. Twelve leaders working together to organise and rule over the new, smaller world. Surely there were tons of issues that needed tending to, but the most urgent one would have been not letting the human race die off, basically, since our numbers had decreased so drastically. So, the books say that we should all be thankful that the Universe had blessed us with Soulmate marks, which guarantee real love, which guarantee little babies popping out of people." The sarcasm dripping out of Hercules' mouth would never cease to amaze John, especially when he compared it to the loving tone he used to talk about his soulmate, Jenny, and how much he actually loved her.

"I'm guessing this is where you blow my mind with the fact that it's not quite like that?" Angelica raised one eyebrow, but her pursed lips betrayed her anxiousness at what she was about to hear.  
    John had known her since he could remember, their families ran in the same circles and they'd crossed paths at every social event. She had always been amazingly bright, but it was only after Eliza's Reveal that he had noticed the challenging glint in her eyes, and her powerful stance. John imagined it can't have been easy, dealing with Eliza's Unmarked status. In the outer neighbourhoods, she would have been completely shunned by her peers, possibly even cast away by her own family. But Philip Schuyler was not only well-positioned but kind, and he had diplomatically found ways for his daughter not to lose her status. Still, people talked behind their backs and many kids their age seemed to avoid Eliza. It was unfair and cruel, but Eliza never lost her kindness. John had tried to understand that, how someone could be so calm about a world set on hating her for no reason, but to no avail. Eliza Schuyler was a mystery to him, but Angelica was easier to read.  
    Ever since he'd had his Realisation, he'd started looking at everyone around him differently. Wondering if he was the only one who knew, if there were others like him with free thoughts trapped in their minds, unable to come out. He always had his suspicions about Angelica, the outspoken girl who'd defend her sister to anyone who dared question her value. No matter what the Council said, no matter what society thought, Angelica would never let anyone treat her sister like she was inferior. It was only in college, though, that he felt his suspicions confirm, when Angelica began a speech in the middle of one of their classes about Unmarked rights and the unfair treatment of anyone that fell out of the Soulmate system. They were dangerous words, but she spoke them with pride and confidence. She hadn't returned to that class and John felt a wave of relief when he crossed paths with her again, walking safely around campus.

"There's evidence, things the Council thought they'd burned and buried and evaporated, that proves that, at least until a few years before the Final War, there was no binding Soulmate system. People chose their lovers through instinct and feeling and faith. Not in a higher power that knew better, but faith in their own selves. They trusted themselves, and they trusted their significant others, without any outside guarantee or mark on their arms telling them it was right. Loving someone was a choice made freely."  
"And no one was told they couldn't..." Angelica concluded.  
    That was it, that was why she was here. She would never believe in any sort of deity that deemed her Eliza unworthy of love. It would never make any sense that the kindest, most wonderful woman she'd ever known should be destined to live alone, away from society. She had been suspicious ever since her Reveal. She could believe in soulmates and destiny, but the existence of Unmarked people was just too cruel a thing to conceive.

"We don't know why, there are some theories..." Lafayette explained. "I've read people claim that it was originally a way to set apart... undesirable genes, infertile people or those less likely to... produce strong offspring." He seemed to have trouble saying these things. "It's stupid, and awful, and wrong. Over the years, it's unclear how the Unmarked string developed, but this is still the strongest theory going around. I'm sorry I can't tell you anything more about this, dear."

    Angelica sighed. She hated thinking her sister would be seen as undesirable for any reason, but as enraging as this new information was, it was hope. It meant that she was right, and that fighting for Eliza's rights was more importante than she ever could have thought.

"Alright." She spoke with ease and determination. "I assume you did some sort of research on me before considering telling me all this, correct?" Lafayette nodded, a slightly guilty look on his face.

She smirked.  
"Let's get to work then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone reading this!  
> I'm not too fond of this chapter for it being kind of explanation-heavy but I tried not to make it too dense.  
> Anyway, let me know what you think! :)


	5. The Freak

_"The dreadful fire at the Nation Archives has taken from us what little was left of the world's recorded history before the Final War. This horrible accident has erased thousands of years of knowledge [...] We trust the Council's historians to give their best efforts to preserve their shared wisdom in a new set of documents that will be the top priority of the History Committee in a thorough 5-year plan. These are the brightest minds in Nation City and together, they will be able to compile most of our ancestors' stories [...] to ensure that we will always remember the history of our world."_

_-Official Council Statement announcing the development of the Historical Documents (later released as the History of the New Nation), October 21st, 2070._

 

 

"Mr. Hamilton, please sit down."  
"But I don't understand, you're talking about these things as if there are no doubts, and how can we ever be sure of things that happened so long ago with all the missing records?"  
"Mr. Hamilton, do I need to take you back to basic school history lessons? The greatest minds of the time got together to compile all the knowledge of the world before the Final War, that's what the History of the New Nation _is_. Are you trying to tell me that a 20-year old kid from an Outsider Community knows more than they did?"  
"Not at all, but they were only human after all. I'm just staying open to the possibility that there's things they might have missed!"  
"Careful there, Hamilton. This is not a paranoid convention, this is a classroom. We study facts, not whatever strange theories you were taught back home."  
     A generalised sound of giggles surrounded him. He was about to protest further but Burr quickly went back to the class' topic, not before shooting him a warning glance. Alexander sat back down, glancing around him. People were giving him looks and he inadvertently curled into himself, trying to focus back on taking notes and not calling any more attention towards himself. It wasn't easy though, Burr kept repeating lines verbatim from the History of the New Nation, which he'd read countless times before. Surely everyone had. His mind couldn't shake off the laughter that had taken over the classroom moments before, which had accomplished the difficult task of shutting him up. What was so funny about him? About his home? He knew Citizens were often judgemental of outsiders, but the derisiveness with which these folks considered him was unexpected. He was just as good as anyone from the City. In any other context, he'd have snapped back at anyone that looked down on him, but he needed to understand what he was dealing with first. A single person could just be an idiot but, a whole classroom? Alexander felt there was something he was missing and he couldn't stand that.  
     Soon enough, the class ended; a few students walked past him, whispering. He shook it off. This wasn't school, he was a grown-up; if people decided to be idiots, it shouldn't affect him. When he looked up from his backpack, the classroom was empty and his professor was staring at him with a neutral expression.  
"Sir?" Alexander approached his desk warily.  
"Hamilton, I..." Burr looked back at the door for a second and rubbed his temple. "Look, you can't... You can't say things like that inside a classroom. Don't-" He stopped Alex as he was opening his mouth to argue, his voice strangely soft. "I'm not punishing you, Hamilton. Trust me, I... It's for the best, you don't want to call attention to yourself like that, yeah?"  
    Alexander was too confused to challenge him, so he just nodded and walked away. He wasn't fond of Burr at all, but he'd never seen him look so skittish. He was ready to put this afternoon behind him and forget the whole experience of this class when he was stopped just a few steps out the classroom door.

"Alexander, right?"  
    There was a skinny girl looking at him curiously, slightly biting her lip. Her whole attitude didn't seem to match the strong grip she still had on his arm.  
"Yes, hi. I'm sorry, I don't think we've met, have we?"  
"Oh. No. I'm so sorry, I'm Eliza, I'm in Mr. Burr's class. I... I wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed a bit blindsided by that whole thing before."  
    Alexander looked at her curiously. She had big dark eyes that practically spelled out that she meant to help and he was taken aback for a second. “I’m… I’m fine, just a little confused, I guess? I’m still new to Nation City and sometimes I feel like I’m speaking a different language. Does that make sense? I just, I’m really not sure what I said that made me seem so... Inadequate?"  
“Alexander…” She seemed to be trying to find the right words. “Do you not understand what just happened? Why they were whispering about you?"  
Embarrased, he shook his head no.  
“You’re from an Outsider Community, no one here has ever even seen a place like that. And the people there…”  She looked around her, at the busy hallway they were in. "Well, if the tales were true you probably _would_ be speaking another language altogether.”  
Alexander furrowed his brow, more confused than before. “The City isn’t very welcoming to new things, Alexander. And to these people, you are something they never thought they’d see."  
“What is that?"  
She smiled brightly and her eyes shone with- “Something else, definitely."  
“I take it you don’t believe these tales where apparently I would have three heads?"  
“I know better than to blindly trust everything I’m told, fortunately for you.” They both laughed and Alexander finally felt like himself again. "Anyway, you seemed like you need someone to guide you through the intricacies of City life and the woefully uneducated folk here."  
Alexander let out a small laugh. He never thought he’d hear someone speak of Citizens as uneducated. “This was my last class, do you want to get some coffee and teach me how to live?"  
She laughed, loud and without any shame, with her whole body. “That sounds nice, Alexander. Let’s go."

-

    Maybe she should have more self-control, but Eliza's never been able to resist an underdog, and seeing Alexander so uncomfortable before had made all her senses awaken. Some other person might have felt relieved in the shift of negative attention, but having lived beneath those stares for so long, Eliza knew how hard it could be to rise through it. If she'd learned anything about Alexander in the few classes they'd shared, it was that he had a boldness that didn't deserve to be dimmed down.  
    They were sitting across from each other at a café near campus now, and much of the tension of the classroom had left his body as he sipped his coffee, slowly coming back to himself.  
"I'm really sorry about what happened back there, I'd like to reassure you that not everyone here is like that. You shouldn't let them bring you down."  
"Oh, I know, I've met some nice people. I've actually mentioned where I'm from and they didn't seem to have any negative reaction. Maybe that's why I was so unprepared. I don't care what people think, honest, but not being able to understand what was going on affected me the most. I guess I don't like feeling like I don't know where I'm standing, if that makes sense?"  
    Eliza smiled softly. Could it be possible? After all the discussions with Angelica, she didn't believe the rumours about Valley Forge and the free thinking people there could be lies. Even if she could never leave her family, her home, it made her feel safe knowing there were places where people would treat her differently, however remote they might be. Yet here she was, face to face with a man that came from that very place but didn't seem to be aware of that tiny flare of hope that had given Eliza strength in so many hard times. It was a bit unsettling, but she also found it quite endearing.  
"Of course it makes sense, Alexander. It's always easier to deal with things when you can understand them. And from what I've heard from you, I doubt there's much you don't know about."

    They talked for hours. Eliza really was something else. Alexander liked John, and Hercules and Lafayette. They were nice people to be around and they made him feel welcome when he hung out with them. But this girl gave him a different feeling. A sense of comfort he hadn't felt since he'd come to Nation City. It was warm and safe and it made him feel more calm than he could ever remember feeling. She was fresh and fun, and there was nothing apologetic in the way she laughed. She seemed freer than anyone he'd ever met. Alexander's mind drifted for a second to the way John behaved sometimes, polite and reserved, like he was holding back.  
"Hey, I need to get going but I'd love to hang out with you some other time, Alex. I had fun today."  
"Eliza, nothing would make me happier. You're literally a breath of fresh air." He passed her his phone. "Enter your number, I'm sure I'll need advice about life sooner rather than later." He did the same for her and they started walking towards the exit together. As they did, he noticed a group of girls sitting in a booth staring at them and whispering. He sighed loudly; how fast did rumours spread around this university?  
    Eliza seemed to notice his discomfort and quickly read the situation.  
"Don't worry." She said with a smile smaller than any other she'd given him before. "That's not about you, trust me."

-

As usual, when he returned, John wasn't home. Alexander wondered when he had taken to calling his dorm room home. It had been two months since classes had started and the feeling that the University and the City were where he belonged hadn't faded. He still believed he was right to pursue an education, to leave Valley Forge, to search for something more... Still, it wasn't how he'd pictured it at all. The naïve kid from the Outside was starting to realise how little he knew of his place in the world, and it was not an easy adjustment.

    He took out his journal and started writing, an effort to make sense of these new experiences.  
" _Everyone’s so knowledgeable here. I thought I would speak and_ _they’d gasp and widen their eyes, they’d be astonished beyond belief. Ha. I was so naïve._ _I thought I’d cause a ripple effect and shake the world, but_ _I’m just another drop in a continuous storm that falls over the ocean, strong but the same as everyone else, soon blending with the water and stilling at the bottom. Is this it? Is this what I become? No Soulmate in sight, no great accomplishment. Just another number, another kid wasting his time with education to get a menial job and hope and pray he finds the one person that can give his life meaning. I'm tired. Tired of waiting, tired of this extended prelude to my life. I'm ready to meet my Elizabeth, ready to see the brightness of the world that so many speak of. I'm hopeful, of course, I know she's here. This place, this moment in time, feels to me like a turning point somehow. Frustrated and tired, I still feel that spark when I walk these hallways, that shiver inside me that says this is it. This is where my life begins. It's only a matter of time._ "

    Alexander had high hopes for himself. Since he was able to read, he had made his way through the extensive library his family had put together back home, finding himself consumed with the stories and essays they'd kept safe. He was especially fascinated with the stories of their ancestors, what little was known of the people who lived before the war, when the world was wide and full. He was excited to start studying, to research and find out more about these people and their lives. How things had changed in all those years. He dreamed of unveiling their secrets, of discovering new data that would change the way the world thought of their history.  
    After the events of that day, he couldn't help but wonder if that was a realistic goal at all. His grandmother would often call him a dreamer using the most endearing voice, and he'd worn that label proudly; but he was a grown up now, and perhaps this particular dream was better off in the fantasies of a child.  
    He sighed as he lifted his eyes from his journal and glanced at the side of the room. John's bed was neatly made, a simple blue comforter over which lay a black throw pillow. John would use it to balance his books when he studied, leaving his desk to the task of hosting his endless array of notebooks and loose papers. It was a sort of organised mess Alexander could never understand. Much like the man it belonged to himself.  
    He had gotten closer to John in the last few weeks. Ever since their first outing at the bar, he’d made an effort to spend time with him away from their dorm routine. At first he wasn’t sure John even liked him; sure, he was polite and pleasant, but he seemed to always need a little push to agree to hang out with him. Once he did, though, Alexander saw him truly enjoying himself. There was a different tint to the kind of smiles he wore when he finally relaxed in his company, and Alex was slowly getting good at identifying it. Whatever reasons he might have to wear that sort of armor around people, it was nice to know he was starting to trust Alexander enough to let his real self through sometimes. He saw him when they went out with their little group, in the way he laughed loudly when Hercules made a silly word play, in how he carried Lafayette home with a fond smile when he had too much to drink. He saw him when they were alone together, when Alexander forced him to go on walks with him, in how concentrated his gaze was when they sat silently on the benches overlooking the river. He saw him even when he wasn’t around, in the small water bottle that appeared out of nowhere on Alexander’s desk when he had been working for long hours without a break.  
    Alex allowed himself to smile at the sight of his roommate’s bed. In all his daydreams about Nation City, he hadn’t really considered the possibility of finding a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Like two things happened on this chapter! Shock!  
> Yeah, it's slooooooow progressing I know, but I swear it's picking up the pace a bit soon. It's probably never going to be a fast-paced thing because it's not really my style and it's not the style of this story to be honest, but things will begin to happen.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	6. The Spark

_"Valley Forge was a strange place to me. In my memory, I still keep it as two separate entities. On one side, the real one, the complex and deep one with everything I got to know eventually. But on the other side, it's still the simple small community where people led quiet lives and never worried much about what went on in the city. I could never be sure if my lack of knowledge of everything that transpired there was product of others hiding it from me, or of my own denial and naïveté. Perhaps it would have been better for the young Alexander to be more aware of his origins, to be more protected as I came to the city. But I'm not sure I could complain about the lack of shame that I felt about myself. I'll always be grateful to my grandmother for never making me feel like I had anything to hide, even if, by normal standards, I sort of did."_

_-Hamilton's journal, August 2nd, 2174._

    John was walking back to campus from Lafayette’s apartment after a meeting. It was truly amazing how well Angelica fit in with their little gang -Should they come up with a name? Was that childish?-, with her sharp eye for connections and a will as strong as he’d ever known. He wondered for a moment what it would have been like to have her as an ally since the beginning, a friend in his own crowd. But there was no point for it now, he wasn’t going back, so where he was right now was all that mattered. He'd made it through anyway, and he was at a good place, finally.  
    It was very early in the morning and even less people were walking around than usual, so it was surprising to see a group of six men in white uniforms crowded over a wall across the street. Trying not to call any attention to himself, he dared a couple of glances and saw them painting over a red graffiti. It was mostly covered already, but he was able to make out the word ‘soulmate’ and ‘rights’, along with a big swirly M that appeared to be a signature. Just as John was nearing the next corner, the men had finished their job and the wall was pristine again.  
    Maybe it was just a childish prank with no real meaning, but John liked to think that there were other people out there trying to figure out how to fight the Council. And if their way was with a bit of spray paint, who was he to criticise? It was hard enough to get a message around that wasn’t Council-approved. Everything was monitored and persecution was fierce. Lafayette was their main source for rumours, and there was no shortage of stories of people disappearing after making an attempt to address public forums with questions about the Council. He hoped the paint-job he'd just witnessed hadn't been preceded by a shady arrest. John shivered a bit and blamed the breeze. He refused to be scared. 

-

     For perhaps the first time in her life, Angelica felt powerful. She could feel her mind working at all times, alert, awake, aware of everything that happened around her and how it could be interpreted. She was discovering the thrill she felt in finding connections and subtle messages, and now that she could see them, her world was filled to the brim with those. There was a new sense of purpose in her and it felt freeing.

     She had plenty of friends at the school, but her relationship with her rebel squad -as she'd started calling them to herself- was something else. On top of the usual friendship, there was a deep sense of bonding, even when they hung out at a café or shared a drink at the bar. Angelica was close to her family, but she felt she had found a second one with them.

"Hey" She said while munching on three fries at once. "Isn't John's roommate Alexander Hamilton?"  
     Hercules stood to attention. It was just the two of them at the bar that evening, and he was glad John was absent for this conversation, whatever it was.  
"He is, why? You know him?"  
"Nah, Eliza." She scanned her phone screen. "She met him a few days ago and has been talking a lot about him. She's scared to text him, I think." She frowned. Her sister was the most important thing. She remembered feeling scared that might change when she met her soulmate, but her feelings for Evan, however strong, were a completely separate thing. Eliza and Peggy would always be her priority.  
"He's cool. We hang out sometimes."  
"Hercules. You know exactly what I'm asking here. I want my sister to be safe, and I'm not going to encourage her to be bold with a guy that will scowl at her when he finds out about her."  
"Look, Alex is..." Hercules sighed. He prided himself on his ability to read people, and it was particularly frustrating to try and understand Hamilton. "Okay. Facts. He's from Valley Forge, but I don't think he knows all that happened there. He's real smart, knows a lot about pretty much everything except... you know. He's still looking for his soulmate, puts a lot of hope into that. That's what we know, objectively."  
"Objectively. So what do you _think_ then?"  
"A lot of things, really. I imagine it can't be easy for him to interact with most of the people here. I don't know how aware he is of the prejudice that exists towards Outsiders, but I don't believe he has a line of people waiting to be his friends. Which sucks, 'cause I think he's a good kid, hardworking and driven. He talks, a lot. Quite loudly too." He chuckled. The truth was, he was beginning to really like Hamilton. He usually had no problem interacting with regular people in his life, it was the idea of the whole group incorporating him that made him feel uneasy. With all of them together, it might be easier to feel comfortable and let something slip. "The guys still consider the possibility that he could be faking his lack of knowledge of everything. I'm a lot more... realistic, I guess? I'm pretty sure he doesn't know. How he managed to avoid that growing up in an Outsider Community, I've no idea, but you should hear him speak of soulmates. He has zero doubts. And John..." He paused and started scratching at his glass. Since they'd met Alexander he hadn't talked about this much; Lafayette had taken an instant liking to the kid and he feared his objectivity was lost now. But perhaps telling Angelica was crossing a line... Then again, if he turned out to be right, he was going to need help.  
"I haven't heard John talk about him at all. Do they not get along?"  
"He doesn't really talk about him when he's not around, but when they're together... It's hard not to notice that he's become attached to Alexander. To what level, I don't know, but I can see how his eyes dim when Hamilton brings up soulmates in conversation. I think, at the very least, he really wishes he could talk about everything with him."  
"At the very least? What are you implying, Mulligan?"  
He wouldn't say it, but he knew Angelica would be able to read it in his eyes anyway.

-

"Can you believe this crap?”  
    Alexander entered the room, practically fuming as he threw a flyer at John's face. John _could_ believe it, mostly because he had written it. "How can anyone think these things? Let alone spread them? _The dangers of Soulmateship_? Seriously? Who in their right mind would give this credit? Soulmateship is the base of our society! Not only that, it's people's main raison d'être! I just. Who wouldn't want to feel complete? To find love? To leave children behind? How can anyone deny their own fundamental right -no, their fundamental _duty_ to forge a legacy?"   
     John stared at the blue-green paper in front of him, pacing his breathing in a well-rehearsed exercise of acting. He had known this might happen when Lafayette had the idea to hack into the University's printers network to release some sort of document; when Angelica insisted they use it as a test of their classmates willingness to question things. He'd known it as he wrote word after word of the small essay he was now staring at. Even in that moment, he couldn't help but think of what would happen when Alexander was faced with it, how he would react, if he would say anything to John. He still held the tiniest bit of hope that he wouldn't be so adamant to follow the Council's mandates. He had to remind himself that what his roommate was repeating right now were the ideas that the Council had been masterfully spreading through every kind of product available to mankind for a hundred years. Soulmates. Children. Legacy. They were powerful concepts, they cut deep into the longing all humans felt, of belonging, of being a part of something, of making a mark in the world. It was understandable -and he kept repeating that to himself- that someone, even someone as bright as Alexander, would be compelled to believe these things with all their heart. It was easy, it was fulfilling. The alternative was not a good place to find yourself in and John knew it all too well. Loneliness. Uncertainty.

"Yeah, it's crazy" John repeated one of the phrases he kept at the top of his mind when these subjects were discussed. "Don't mind them, no one else will."  
"I just don't get it. I mean, this is actually well-written, you know? Whoever did this has a working brain on his head, and they must know their history really well to make the points they're making with such precision. Even if they're totally wrong, I don't know. I want to respect the research but it's so... I don't understand how someone can be so smart and so stupid at the same time, honestly."  
     John tried but couldn't fight off a fond smile. It was exactly what he thought of Alexander, and to hear him say the same thing about himself was... Funny? Ironic? Ridiculous? "Yeah, I wonder the exact same thing, actually."  
     He turned to look at his roommate and his own smile seemed to infect Alexander. For whatever reason, in a few seconds they were both laughing. It was such a strange situation, John couldn't argue with his mind's decision to turn to humor. The truth was, in the past few weeks, John's brain had developed an ability he had wished for before but never quite achieved. When it came to Alexander, he was able to put everything aside; to forget about Soulmates and the Council and his wannabe revolution and just focus on the present. Perhaps that's why he didn't even notice Alexander's use of an old French phrase in his speech.

     They'd often go on walks and talk about anything at all with no trouble. Alexander's fascination with Nation City hadn't dwindled, and listening to him describe the place he knew so well was like seeing the world for the first time. They never took the same road, exploring the neighborhood block by block, and story by story. John told him about his sister. Alex marvelled at the soft rumble of the elevated train. John showed him his favorite corner store, where the employees smiled brightly at him every time. Alex talked about his grandmother's cooking.

     Somehow, they always seemed to end up at the same spot: sitting on one of the many benches that overlooked the river. John always felt sad that such a nice place had been designed for a city where no one ever just walked anymore.  
"Do you ever wonder what it was like?"  
Alexander said.  
"What what was like?"  
"Everything. Before." John was quiet. "Like, not the countries and the wars but the little things." Alexander's gaze was set on a point on the horizon and John didn't turn his eyes away from his face. "Did people go on walks like we do? Did they sit and stare at the river? Did they wonder what it would be like to follow it? To see the place where it opens up to the ocean. What would it feel to be there? Away from everything yet... In the middle of it. In the exact place where it all connects. Where a small thing becomes gigantic, and suddenly it's all you can see around you."  
"I think they did. I don't... It's been a long time, and yeah, we've changed in a lot of ways. But deep down, I think we're still the same. I believe the world was different, but not the people, you know? They were driven by the same things that drive us, and... Well, I don't know that everyone in Nation City is as introspective as you are, but I'd like to think people like you existed, have always existed, even back then."  
Alexander turned to look at him then. "I'd like to think that 200 years ago, there were two idiots sitting at a place not unlike this and thinking about these things."  
"About the past?"  
"No. About life. About... Being."  
John let there be silence for a bit. He looked out into the river, the words coming out of Alexander's mouth spoke of many of his thoughts, of so much of what drove him to research and try to find truths. It hurt to imagine how much they could achieve if he was on their side, but at the same time this felt special. Like perhaps, in this very moment, there was no need for a revolution; no need for pamphlets or essays or proof. All that was needed was a mind willing to work. A soul willing to ask questions about itself.

     Maybe trying to go back to safe ground, maybe trying to poke at something else, John broke the silence.  
"It's not supposed to be complicated, you know?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Life. You know: meet your Soulmate, get married, have kids. It's pretty straightforward."  
"Yeah, I know, it's just..." John didn't dare look back at Alexander. He feared the hope in his eyes would be too much to hide, so he let him continue. "I don't know. Sometimes I feel like... Like there might be more to life than that. It doesn't make any sense but there's this... Longing. I've always wanted to achieve things, to be someone to remember. My mom used to read me this story... About this little kid from a farm who played by the river. He was curious and bold, and one day he decided he didn't like the way the rocks were gathered at the banks and tried to move them. I don't remember it well but he ends up flooding a field, and everyone's mad at him. Only some time passes, the field is drained, and out of it the most beautiful trees start to grow. And they give new fruits no one had ever seen, that were delicious and nourishing." John had never heard that story before. He'd never heard of any kind of children stories that didn't revolve around forming a family. He couldn't speak right now if he tried. His eyes were now locked to Alexander's and the life within them was such that it was impossible to look away. "So, you see? That kid, even in his rashness and carelessness, he changed his world. He would always be responsible for those trees. And like, I'm sure when he got older he met his soulmate and had children and lived happily. I'm sure his legacy lived on in that way. But those trees..."

     Alexander didn't know what had compelled him to tell that story. He hadn't even mentioned his parents before. And he knew thinking the way he did was strange, even for a kid from an Outsider Community. He thought of Eliza and what she'd said about the rumours about his home. And now John was staring at him with a strong look that he couldn't decipher, and it was the last thing he wanted for John to think less of him.  
His feet touched the ground and the air began to move again. The sounds of the city came back to his ears and he felt the breeze. He ran a hand through his hair and got up; it was time they headed back anyway.  
"I don't know, it's silly. Just a kids' story I remember."  
"It's not silly, Alexander."  
John didn't move from his spot on the bench, looking at him with a small smile now. It was a new version of the open smiles he'd wear on these walks, when his polite facade was left behind in their room. It was real, but also kind, and in a way a bit sad. He shook his head slowly and stood up, and they walked back home in comfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I'm posting a chapter without at least the next one already finished so I'm nervous.
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	7. The Drive

  
_"For such a long time, my life has been about trying to escape. Escape myself, at first. Escape my mind that refused to comply. Escape the girl I couldn't love. Escape the family that couldn't understand me. Escape the neighborhood that expected so much of me. Even when I found friendship and camaraderie, I was still trying to escape the constricts of society. But I never had a goal, a destination. I knew what I didn't want, but not what I did want. I'm not saying I do now, but I feel different. I used to escape out of desperation and need. I think I'm starting to see a destination."  
_ _-John Laurens' notebook, June 5th, 2142._  


 

     John was sitting on the floor, his back to the cold wall of the dorm, an open bag of chips on his lap. His eyelids were drooped over his eyes and he looked quite pale. Alexander noticed his freckles standing out a lot more than usual.  
"You look like hell, are you okay?"  
"Yeah, just. Ugh. I got low blood pressure and this humidity's killing me. It's supposed to be autumn, what the hell is this stupid weather?"  
Alexander chuckled and sat down next to him, stealing a few chips.  
"You sound just like my grandma, man. You should move up north where it's dry."  
John seemed to tense up next to him.  
"There's nothing up north, Alexander. How would you even know what the weather is like?"  
"I don't know, it's something my grandma used to say. She said humanity should have settled in Canada where it was mostly cool and dry."  
"Oh. I... I didn't know that."

     John felt dizzy for a whole new reason now. How could Alexander not realise that these were not things people just _knew_? There was no record of what the weather was like in the old countries. Historians probably didn't think it relevant when they were stuck in one place. John himself had never been too interested in geography, but he knew Lafayette had researched as far as he could, and there was barely any data available about the old countries. They knew Nation City was probably located in what was once Uruguay, but the world had become smaller than ever, so mapping it didn't really make sense. Lafayette was particularly proud of a small collection of scraps of ancient maps he had gathered.  
     This whole thing was starting to get on John's nerves. He had come to enjoy spending time with Alexander, and was discovering the young man's mind was something else. As much as he saw of himself reflected back at him in his eyes, as reassuring as that was, there was always a hit. A violent shove down to reality that made him remember that his friend would never truly know him, would never understand him. The existence of such an interesting mind, that still couldn't break the Council's words into pieces with a single argument was annoying, to say the least. John didn't want to admit it to himself, but it hurt. It hurt because it was a dent on his hope that someday they might be able to get the whole of society to see the truth. That with a little effort everybody could understand the plays of the Council and grasp the reality, however difficult it might be.  
     John leaned a bit to his side so their shoulders were touching and he felt contained in the contact. It didn't seem to bother Alexander to be lying on the floor as he started recounting an event from one of his classes. As John started to feel better, he began to add more to the conversation and soon they were chatting like they usually did, laughing at the exaggerated indignation Alexander felt over his teacher's reticence to use the Oxford comma -and to openly debate its merits in class. He smiled as he realised something. It hurt all the more because it was Alexander. John didn't know what to do with that thought.

-

"Oh come on, man, who are you trying to impress? We're gonna be late."  
"Can't I want to look nice for my friends?" Alexander finally unglued himself from the mirror, seemingly content with the way his hair fell on his shoulders, and followed John out the door.  
"If you cared about looking nice you'd think you'd sleep more than three hours a night." He lightly poked Alexander's cheek where the dark circles around his eyes blended with his skin. He swatted him away with a scowl.  
"Well I care, but within reason."  
John rolled his eyes as they walked to the bar. He'd learned long ago that there was no point arguing with Alexander about his sleeping habits. He still hid the coffee now and again though.

     Lafayette was ordering his second drink when John and Alex arrived.  
"Finally! I was afraid I'd have to spend the night drinking on my own. Which is totally fine by me, except, you know, it's kind of frowned upon."  
     His two friends sat down in front of him and Alex gave their order to the waiter who was still standing by their table.  
"Alexander, did you just order a beer?" John didn't comment on the fact that his roommate had naturally ordered for him.  
"Why yes, as part of my sampling of this establishment's menu I occasionally have to delve into the more plain offers. It's all for science, Laurens."  
"I can't believe Hercules is missing this, he'll have a hard time believing it."      Lafayette was already texting him the news. His soulmate had just finished with her exams and they were finally able to spend some time together.  
"Did you time this part of your experiment so that he wouldn't be here to rub your face in it?" He could feel John shifting on his seat to face Alex as he said this.  
"What? I refuse to acknowledge such slander!"  
     Lafayette lifted his eyes from his phone to see his two friends bantering, a smirk on Alexander's face and a fond shine in John's eyes as he rolled his eyes and called him an idiot. He bit his lip, not daring to intrude in their moment, not sure why. It felt like he was watching from the other side.  
     The waiter brought their drinks then, giving Lafayette the opening to insert himself back in the conversation, making Alex pose for a photo with his pint. The smile on his face soon turned upside down when he actually tried his drink and almost gagged.  
"How the hell do you drink this every time, John? It's so bland!"  
"You're a kid."  
"And you're too interesting a person for such a dull drink choice. I don't think I'll be able to look Hercules in the eye ever again!"  
     Lafayette laughed as Alexander subtly moved his glass towards John, who seemed more than willing to get wasted tonight. For a while, he seemed focused on his two glasses, so he grabbed hold of the conversation as he told Alexander of his classes.

     John was finishing the second beer on the table when he realised it might not have been the best idea to down two pints so quickly. He wasn't sure what they were talking about, but he stared at Alexander's hands moving wildly as he seemed to have Lafayette entranced with some sort of elaborate story. It was such an Alexander thing, those big hand gestures. He wasn't the only person to ever do that, sure, but it went so well with the way he talked, in a hurried haze, sort of desperate to get his point across and have someone understand him, that John couldn't help but think of it as a unique trait. Lafayette was laughing and John smiled. He wasn't sure how much of his state was alcohol-induced and how much was just his mind drifting of its own accord. Two pints was definitely not enough to get him properly drunk, but he was having trouble thinking clearly still. He turned his gaze to Alexander, his eyes were crinkling as he smiled fondly at Lafayette's laughter. He turned to look at John and said something, breaking him out of his daze.  
"What?"  
"I asked where are you off to, man? You seem somewhere else entirely. Are you okay?"  
"Yeah... Your fault, really." He lifted the two empty glasses in front of him and      Alexander smiled sheepishly. He seemed about to say something when his phone buzzed, distracting him for a moment.  
     For more than a moment. He was looking at the screen, frozen, his eyes wide and his brow furrowed. John didn't trust himself to be aware of how much time was passing, but Lafayette seemed to have noticed the pause in Alexander as well.  
"Hey, something wrong?"  
     Alexander blinked at that, quickly typed something and locked his phone. He looked up with a smile brighter than anything John had ever seen.  
"I gotta go. I... I think I just found my soulmate."  
     Oh.

-

"I can't believe he just left. I'm done, I can't do it anymore." John ran a hand through his hair roughly. His face was flushed and his breaths came in quickly. "I'm going to request a change of roommate."  
"John..."  
"No, Laf, I'm serious. It's... Shit."  
Lafayette sat down next to his friend. After Alexander left the bar in a hurry, John had become silent and he knew it was best they were alone when he finally talked, so they'd moved to his apartment.  
"John, what's happening? Talk to me, dear."  
"That's just it." He let out a shaky, hollow laugh. "Nothing happened. Nothing ever happens and nothing will."  
"Um... What is it that you want to happen?"  
"I... I don't know. Maybe now he's found his dear Elizabeth he'll stop being so annoying. No one else will matter to him anyway."  
     Lafayette had a hard time believing 'annoying' that was the word John wanted to use. Then again, he didn't seem to know for sure what he was feeling, and was probably a little bit drunk still.  
"John, I know it can be uncomfortable to interact with people who are unaware, but you guys were getting along..."  
"But that's just it! He's not unaware! It's like..." He stood up, a sudden wave of angry energy hitting him. "He's staring wide-eyed at _everything_ , you know? He sees so much, and this is right in front of him. It's right there, with shining beacons, yelling at him to notice, to realise, and he doesn't! He just doesn't!"  
He knew what he should say. That it was more complicated than that, that the whole world made it harder than it seemed from their side. He also knew John knew that perfectly well. This was something else. Lafayette kept quiet.  
"I just... I just want to scream at him. Grab him by the shoulders and shake it out of him. I kind of really want to punch him, actually."  
"Punch him? Really?"

     John turned to his friend frowning. He'd been quietly letting him rant so far, but now he was looking at him with one raised eyebrow, like he was in on some obvious thing John wasn't seeing.  
"What?"  
"John... You've never reacted like this before, about anyone. And we've run into some pretty hardheaded characters."  
"Well, I never had to live with any of them!"  
"Even with your family, dear, you get frustrated, yeah, but not like this."  
"What are you trying to say, Lafayette?"  
"I'm not sure I should tell you."  
     John hoped his look was all he meant it to be. Lafayette had never been patronising to him, and it was not something John appreciated from anyone. He had half a mind to redirect his violence towards him when he spoke.  
"Oh my god, John, you _like_ him!"  
     He didn't need to ask. He knew exactly what his friend was saying. He sat back down on the couch, slowly, the wheels in his head working at full speed. How long had it been since he'd let himself like someone? At what point in his friendship with Alexander had he let his guard down? It wasn't a series of images of Alexander's many smiles that flashed through his mind, it wasn't the depth of his eyes or the way he talked. John's brain took him on a trip of his own feelings in the past few months. The warmth he felt talking to him about his classes and being on the receiving end of all that focus. The silent comfort of studying side by side, barely exchanging any word for hours. The unexplainable peace he felt when they walked the city together.  
     He tried to compare it to how he felt around other people. Lafayette made him feel at home, made him feel he wasn't alone in the world. Hercules made him feel powerful, like he really _could_ do anything he set his mind to. Angelica made him feel inspired and fuelled his drive. No one made him feel quite like Alexander did. No one made him feel quite _as much_ as he did.  
"Shit. Laf I... I can't. I can't like him. It's a disaster waiting to happen. I... How did you know?"  
"John dear, I know you. You're passionate about the things you care about. And I've seen you passionately argue with yourself about Alexander more times than I can count. Most times not even out loud." Lafayette put his arm around John's shoulders and he leaned into it. After all, it was nice to have someone who knew him so well. "You get upset about him because you care about him. And... You probably know what I'm going to say next, and I hate that I have to say it."  
"Because I care about him, I have to let it go, right?"  
"You can't force a Realisation on someone, especially not because you like them. I'm sorry, John."  
"Don't be. It's fine." John felt his eyes get wet. "Well, no, it's not fine. It's shit and I wish everything was different and me liking someone didn't automatically mean it's gonna hurt but... Laf, I... I haven't felt anything for anyone in a very long time. I've devoted myself to our work, you know? And even at my most hopeful moments, I have never considered the possibility of actually finding love or anything like that. I guess... I don't know, I guess it's nice to know on some level I'm still open to it, you know?"

     Lafayette hugged his friend tighter. He felt his friend's pain and wished a little bit harder than usual for the world to change, for things to actually get better. It broke his heart, but it made John all the more valuable to him.  
"John, for what it's worth, I think you're the bravest person I've ever met. I'm proud to be your friend."

     It was going to be painful and it was going to be hard, but now that the whirlwind of the realisation had passed, and he was calm in his friend's embrace, John felt happy. It was the desire to be able to love whomever he wanted that had given him the drive to begin his crusade for the truth, but in all the years of research and thought, he had lost himself in the theory. Somewhere along the way, he had started to realise he was working for others and not for himself. For a mysterious kid who sat on his bed at night wishing his arm said a different name, said anything at all. He had stopped fighting for himself.  
     The truth was, Alexander would never like him like that, and in all likelihood once the semester was over and room assignments shuffled they'd grow out of touch and he'd be no more than a memory in his roommate's mind. But for John, this would always be the moment when he realised that he wanted more out of life than just hiding. And wasn't that what revolution was all about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was originally supposed to be quite different, but the Lams took over, I guess.
> 
> I'm sorry the bar scene is such a mess. I've been postponing writing it all of last week because I was swamped at work and we had a long weekend here and was hoping I'd have time to do it then but then I got sick and ugh. It's been a rough week. But I did it! And if nothing else, there's a sense of accomplishment in finishing something, even as small as a chapter in a silly fic, eh?
> 
> I haven't re-read this a million times as I usually do so if there's any mistakes or things that don't make any sense, do let me know! As always, thanks for reading! :)


	8. The Hope

_"It is a terrible tragedy, of course, to be born an Unmarked. But there's nothing we can do as a society. We need to prioritise the people we can help, and unfortunately, those born without a Soulmate are beyond us. [...] We could curse at the universe for such cruelty, but we must never forget to be grateful for all that the Soulmate system has given us."  
_ _-Editorial piece by Council Official Adams, published in Nation City News, December 4th 2119._

 

     No matter how much time passed, he still couldn't get over it. He was meeting friends at a bar, drinking and talking about everything and anything. He was spending time with people his age, having fun. Soulmate aside, life couldn't get much better than that. He hadn't considered himself a lonely person before, but being in contact with John and his friends -could he call them _his_ friends?- had made him realise how much he'd missed that kind of contact.  
     It wasn't usually like that. People had friends in their childhood, developed bonds and relationships based on fun and common interests, and then they met their soulmates and their focus shifted. He knew it was natural, it was the way things worked. Most people met their soulmates soon after their Reveal, and life was already too short to be spent away from the one you love. He had never stopped to consider what happened to those who, like himself, took a little longer to find that One. He'd never had friends to consider at all. He couldn't imagine leaving these men behind, but how could he know? They'd only known each other for so long, and there was no way to predict what it would actually _feel_  to find her at last. Still, Hercules and Lafayette had found their soulmates but still enjoyed their friendship. Maybe it wasn't strictly an either/or deal.

"Two pints of Sam Adams, please." He looked next to him at John and for a moment he hoped he hadn't made a mistake. As much as he liked to try new things every time they went out drinking, he'd noticed his roommate always sticked to the same beer. He wasn't even thinking when he ordered for him and a slight anxiety creeped up on him in that second at the idea that he might be overstepping his boundaries. He tried not to let it get to his head, but he was always walking on eggshells around John. He usually seemed pleased with Alex's presence, but there were times when he'd close in on himself for no reason. He liked to think they'd come to know each other pretty well, but John was the first real friend he'd ever had. It was hard not to feel insecure about their relationship.  
"Alexander, did you just order a beer?"  
     He let out a sigh and smirked. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket but ignored it.

-

  
**21:03  
****Elizabeth Schuyler:  
** Hey Alex, you busy tonight? I'm craving coffee and I'm sure there's at least twenty questions you've been saving for your trusted advisor on living, haha!

  
**21:23  
****Elizabeth Schuyler:  
** Sorry, I hope that didn't offend you!

     He had forgotten about the text he hadn't checked before. It was only when his phone buzzed a second time that he looked at his screen and froze. Elizabeth. Eliza. The big eyes that had welcomed him with such kindness. The open laughter that made her whole body tremble. The easy conversation. The feeling of safety, of comfort. His soulmate. His soulmate. She was here and he was here and he had already met her without even knowing it.  
     He got up, mumbled an explanation. He started walking towards the café where they'd talked, weeks ago. Why hadn't he tried to text her? He'd been so immersed in his work. He tried to get his fingers to work.

  
**21:28  
****Alexander Hamilton:  
** Meet me at the café.

     They'd talked a bit in their class since that first time, and he'd crossed her in the hallways once or twice. He didn't know much about her, but he knew that she was beautiful and kind and warm. She was peaceful where he was a mess. She would be good for him, she would ground him. She was already helping him understand the city, it only made sense she'd be the one to help him understand his place in life. He laughed to himself. This was it. He'd been stupid and blind but he'd found her and he was never going to let her go. He was seconds away from forever.

-

"No need to miss me anymore, kids! I'm home!"  
Hercules barged in with the biggest smile on his face. It wasn't easy being in a relationship where you couldn't see each other often, but Jenny was truly amazing. They'd met at their mutual Reveal, and they loved each other. He was sure there wasn't anyone else he would rather spend his life with. When he started having doubts about the Soulmate system, she was there, she listened. She understood his thoughts about it and, while she wasn't about to start a riot, she supported him. He was proud to know they had both made the _conscious_ choice to be together, regardless of what their arms said. John had said it was "beautifully badass".

"What are you doing here, dear? I thought Jenny would have kept you entertained all weekend!" Lafayette appeared from his bedroom.  
"She's catching up with some friends tonight, we'll meet again tomorrow morning. I thought I'd take the chance and come laugh at your drunk asses! Where's John and Alex?"  
He ushered Hercules towards the kitchen, away from where John was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. A strange mixture of sad and content, an amalgam of conflicting emotions that seemed to live at the intersection of who John was and who he wished he could be.  
"Alex left. He... He got a text and blurted something about finding his soulmate and just left." He spoke quietly, as though the three walls between them weren't enough for John not to hear what he already knew. "John's not taking it so well."  
"Oh, did he realise...?"  
"Yeah... He'll be fine, we talked it out. But it's still a hit. It doesn't help that Alex hasn't answered my texts, so we've got no idea where he's off to or what the hell even happened."  
Hercules felt bad for John. He'd noticed for a while there was something else between him and Alex, but perhaps his friend could live blissfully unaware until the crush faded and he could move on. It's what usually happened, he assumed, since John had never mentioned any romantic interest, however impossible it might be. There was nothing he could do to help his friend's emotional turmoil, so he directed his efforts towards understanding the actual events.  
"That's so weird though, like... What? He got a text... _telling_ him about an Elizabeth? Did she find him first and text him? How would he even know she was the right one if he hadn't even met her?" Hercules' mind got to work on all the different possibilities. There was one option but he willed himself to find another alternative, in vain. "Oh. Fuck." He took out his phone and dialed quickly, under Lafayette's confused gaze.

"Herc?"  
"Are you with Eliza?"  
"Well hello to you too."  
"Angelica, please."  
"What's going on? She was here a while ago but then she went to meet with Alex."  
"Shit."  
"Mulligan, talk. This is my sister, don't fuck with me."  
"Ok, don't freak out, but... Alex thinks Eliza's his soulmate."  
"Oh fuck no, Hercules. I'm going to kill that little friend of yours!"  
"No, you're not. You're going to stay put and wait for her."  
"But-"  
"Eliza's smart, she'll be able to handle it herself. Trust her. She'll need you there when she returns, I'm sure."  
"Fine. But if he turns out to be a bigoted asshole I'll kick your ass."  
"Fair enough."  
     Lafayette was looking at him with wide eyes and a scared expression when he hung up. He looked at him and there was no need to say it. John needed to know.

-

     Eliza was glad she had decided to text Alex. She'd had a great time when they went out for coffee, but it had been a while and even if they saw each other at school, she missed him. Still, it had taken some coaxing from Angelica to build up the courage to text him. She was used to being cast aside. People weren't looking for casual friendships, they were looking for soulmates. Everyone else seemed to be disposable. It was awful, she thought, but she couldn't know if she'd be the same way if there was actually something written on her arm.

     When she got to the café Alexander was standing at the door, almost shaking with pent-up energy. As soon as he saw her approaching he fast-walked towards her and grabbed her hands, looking at her with wide, glassy eyes and a smile. It would have been a lovely sentiment from anybody else, but it was a completely new expression in him and it made Eliza feel uncertain.  
"Alex, are you okay?"  
"I've never been better, _Elizabeth_ , I..." He lifted one hand to cup her cheek. Eliza felt herself blush at the intimate gesture. "I can't believe I've finally found you."

     No.  
     She frowned and took a step backwards, trembling slightly. This couldn't be happening.  
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be overwhelming, it's just. It makes so much sense, I can't believe I didn't realise before. I didn't know your name, which is ridiculous and insane and when you texted me I saw your contact name and it all clicked, you know? Eliza? What's wrong?"  
     She put her hands on her face and tried to take a deep breath. In all her life, in all the awful things she'd experienced for being an Unmarked, never before had this happened. Never before had she had to look into the eyes of a man who was convinced she was the love of his life. Never before did she have to break someone's heart while her own still crumbled. He was looking at her, he was still looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Like she held all the answers, like she was the key to everything he'd ever need. It was such a powerful feeling, that look. And for a second, she closed her eyes and she wished. She wished harder than ever before for a miracle, for her mark to magically appear and read 'Alexander'. She wished for life to be simpler, for the chance to mirror the look in Alex's eyes and make him feel as unique and special as he was making her feel, underneath the pain and the guilt.  
     But it was a lie, and she knew it. And as much as she wished it otherwise, she couldn't lead him on, she couldn't keep him from finding whomever out there was meant to give that look back to him. She was strong, and she cared for her friend. She could do it.  
     She didn't stop trembling.  
"Let's... Let's go inside, and sit down and... We'll talk. Yeah?"  
     He seemed confused but he nodded, still on the high she'll soon make him fall from. They ordered their coffees and they waited for them in silence. Eliza thought of how rare this seemed, Alexander being quiet and patient. This meant so much to him. Time moved agonisingly slow until they finally sat down, Eliza took a deep breath, and willed the words to come out of her mouth.  
"Alexander, do you know what it means to be Unmarked?"  
"Unmarked?"  
"There are... People, who... At their Reveal... They don't..." She took a deep breath and he reached out for her hand.  
"Eliza, it's okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me. We can work through it."  
"Alex, I... I can't be your soulmate." She moved her hand away as he watched the light fade from his eyes and fought back tears of her own.  
"But..."  
"I can't be anyone's soulmate." She blurted out. If she didn't say it fast, she was afraid she never would. "At my Reveal... Everyone got names on their arms. I got nothing. I... I got nothing." Her voice was trembling but she kept her hands firm as she pulled up her sleeve, revealing to him her blank arm. "I'm an Unmarked. I have no soulmate. I'm so sorry, Alex, I'm not... I'm not your Elizabeth."  
     The tears flowed freely down her cheeks now. The blurry fantasy was over, and she knew she'd always remember the deep eyes that had looked at her with the closest she'd ever get to love.

-

  
**23:26  
****John Laurens:  
** Alexander, please answer the phone.

  
**23:53  
****John Laurens:  
** Where are you? We're worried.

  
**00:48  
****John Laurens:  
** I'm here whenever you want to talk. Or not talk.

  
**01:21  
****John Laurens:  
** Please just come home.

  
**01:23  
****John Laurens:  
** There's coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, writing an actual plot point you've had in your head since the beginning is extremely difficult. Yay!
> 
> I struggle with actual scenes where things happen and aren't mostly stream of consciousness conversations, in case you haven't already noticed. So yeah, bear with me, please! The next few chapters are a key moment in this story (I've mentally marked it as the transition from 'Part 1' to 'Part 2') so I'm a bit freaked at the thought of not delivering the ideas properly (Did I mention I overthink things? I do. A lot).
> 
> I've also had these moments of needing to unload stuff that was on my mind so I've written this little one-shot called [Blank Pages](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10026740) which has nothing to do with this AU but I'm quite happy with how it turned out so I'm plugging it shamelessly here -do check it out if you will, I'll be super happy.  
> I'm writing another short-ish thing too, but it's still all over the place in terms of structure so I'm not sure when/if I'll upload it. I think I was escaping writing the actual scenes here by just pouring thoughts into other stories, but I've rediscovered writing after a long time and it's so liberating, I didn't realise how much I'd missed it.
> 
> Anyway, that sums up the Things Nobody Asked You section of this note!  
> Thanks so much for reading. Do leave a comment if you feel like it, it makes me so happy to read your thoughts!


	9. The Crack

  
_"[...] Eliza was right in front of me, tears falling down her cheeks, eyes begging for understanding, but in my mind she was dead. It wasn't fair to her. The person I had lost was the Elizabeth I had dreamed up in my head, the soulmate I was hoping to find and that in only a few moments I had projected onto her. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right, and I wish I could go back and change my reaction, but looking at her only reminded me of what was no longer there. The hope that had been taken away from under my feet, leaving me falling from the highest tree I'd ever climbed. I was waiting to hit the ground and break._ _"  
_ _-Hamilton's journal, September 1st, 2169._   


     That was the night the weather finally decided to cool down and grant the city the cold winds it had been craving. The streets were deserted, as usual, as Alexander walked without a clear direction. Just as the breeze had suddenly appeared, poking at his light summer clothes, his night had abruptly turned upside down. His night; his life; his world.  
     Alexander had always prided himself on being a rational man. And that rational part of his personality was still there, shouting at the top of its lungs, saying there are hundreds of Elizabeths, saying that this didn't mean anything, trying to ingrain in his mind that this wasn't a catastrophe. But his emotional side had been growing stronger, even that same night. It had boldened when he was having drinks with his friends, feeling accepted and warm. And it had downright exploded into a gigantic, majestic creature when receiving Eliza's texts. All the space it now occupied in his mind had gone from gold to grey, and it was all he could do not to scream.  
     He vaguely remembered reacting back at the café. Eliza was crying, and he felt terrible, he really did. But the emotional beast within him was too upset to empathise. It was angry, and devastated, and furious, and outraged. He had spent a few seconds in shocked silence, muttered an apology -at least he hoped he had- and left; the same move he'd performed earlier with his friends, but from the other side now. And he had walked. His feet were driving and his mind was trying to calm the noise, to no avail. It was a mess of sounds. He recognised the voice of Jimmy Warner, sitting next to him in the fifth grade and talking about his brother's soulmate bringing him cookies. Another seemed to be his high school valedictorian -what was her name?- reminding everyone that their shared lives had only just begun. One of the voices he was sure was the one he pictured when he read The History of the New Nation, a stuck-up old manly voice that sang epics about the Soulmate System. Most, he didn't even recognise, but they all spoke of the same things. Of love, of soulmates, of something that right now felt so far away from him he would pop his limbs trying to reach it.  
     Cruelty; that's what it felt like. To feel his soulmate so close, to feel himself finally arriving, only to have that taken away from him in an instant. He remembered feeling that way after his reveal. When he realised she wasn't there, that he'd have to wait, to search, to _find_ her, while everybody else could walk a few blocks and lose themselves in the embrace of their loved one. It wasn't fair then, and it wasn't fair now. Why was he being tested like this? Did he not deserve his Elizabeth? Did he not deserve to be complete? He desperately wanted something, someone to be angry at. What hurt the most was that the only one he could find to blame was himself. For getting his hopes up, for not being attentive enough. There must have been something he'd done to deserve this punishment, he just didn't know what it was.  
 _"The world tests the people who are strong enough to take it."_ His grandmother had said once. _"And to come out of it stronger and wiser and altogether better. You'll see."_ It was cold comfort right now. He didn't want to be wiser, he didn't want to be better. He wanted to be loved.

     He had tried, he truly had, not to imagine his soulmate too much. They said it was pointless, that the surprise was a beautiful moment, that no imagination could ever dream up that one person. But he'd been waiting for three years since his Reveal, with no sign of her at all. And it's true, he couldn't have imagined someone as perfect as Eliza Schuyler was, but she came pretty close. His grandmother had always smiled fondly at his ambition, at his rants about becoming a famous historian, but he knew his goals were far off, and he'd need someone to plant his feet on the ground. Someone who could take him by the arm and remind him that the most important thing was _right there_. And that would finally be enough for him.   
     Here was this girl, this beautiful woman who had been incredibly patient with him, who had helped him when others had laughed. Someone who had taken the time to try to understand him and guide him through a new experience that was scaring the brave little kid from the Outside. Here was someone who seemed perfectly tailored for him; meant for him. Yet she wasn't. What cruel twist of fate had decided that she wasn't worthy of love? It's true he didn't know her that well, but there was no way in his mind that she didn't deserve that happiness. There was no way she deserved what he had done to her, either.

     He kept walking.

-

     John had returned to his dorm room, with the faint hope that Alexander would be there. Hercules thought he'd need space to think, and while that was true, John couldn't shake off his worry. This was a one-of-a-kind situation, he knew, but no matter the differences, he still had a pretty clear idea of what it felt like to have your world twisted apart. In that moment, he couldn't resent Alexander for believing. He didn't have it in him to hold a grudge or feel some petty jealousy because he wasn't aware of the truth, because he relied on a lie that helped make life easier for a lot of people. Whatever else he might feel for him, his friend was now in pain and alone with thoughts that not many others in the world would understand. But John did, didn't he?  
     He understood what it was like to feel like the universe had abandoned you, what it felt like to have everything you hoped for turn against you. He knew of the cold stab of guilt that whispered constantly that it was his fault, that he was wrong, that he was flawed and undeserving. He still felt it, however hard he tried, no matter how much he knew and read and researched; no matter how sure he was, in his rational mind, that there was nothing wrong with him. Rejection isn't really a logical thing. And when it came to soulmates, Alexander wasn't really a logical person.

     He paced, at first. He walked tracing the edges of their beds, their desks, the walls. Then he sat, browsing through notebooks without really looking at them. Then he lay down on his bed, not even attempting to fall asleep. Then he lay down on Alexander's bed, and realised he was torturing himself, waiting idly, driving himself mad. He scribbled down a note in case Alexander returned, urging him to text or call or anything, grabbed his coat and left.  
     He was only three blocks away when he got a text from Lafayette; Eliza was back with Angelica, in bad shape. He wanted to know what had happened, what they'd said to each other, how Alexander had reacted. But it was all secondary, the main thought in his head was making sure he was safe. He imagined what he might look like, a man walking alone, upset, rambling to himself probably; what if he said the wrong thing out loud? What if someone heard? He walked through one of the first paths they'd taken together, one of their first tours of the city. John shook his head, trying to push away those thoughts. It was unlikely anyone would even be out and about anyway. He always thought he was the only person in the whole city who enjoyed walking, everyone else huddled in cars and trains to move around. He supposed it was easier that way, his walks were often times he found himself thinking, reflecting on life. It was too deep an activity for the fast-paced, light way of life that was the norm.  
     The wind helped to cool down his thoughts and for a little bit he let himself be numb, he let his mind empty of everything and just walked. Then he saw him, and a deep sigh left his body without him even willing it. He should have known.

     Alexander was sitting on their bench.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here you have a short chapter with zero dialogue and not much plot advancement. Except, wait, is that Alexander Hamilton having a smidget of doubt?
> 
> Since I feel kind of guilty that there's not much happening here, I'm posting early and hoping to be able to post the next chapter by the end of the week. I've got it sketched out but it still needs some work, so I'll give it my best.


	10. The Door

 

     As he sat down next to him, John could finally breathe again. At least physically, Alexander was there. They sat there in silence, both looking out at the river. It was still dark, and the reflections of the streetlights and buildings danced on the water's edge, the only apparent movement in an otherwise still city. John focused on the sound of Alexander's breathing; it was calm, well-paced. If he didn't know any better, he could have been relaxing after one of their walks, just breathing in the sight in front of him. It set John on edge. Such calm didn't seem to belong with a man who had just had a world-shattering realisation.

"My parents brought me to the City once, did I ever tell you?" Alexander spoke soft and slowly, and it seemed to John as if he were speaking from far away, from a deep place within his mind. "They died when I was 10. I don't usually talk about it but... Most of the things I remember about them are fleeting images. I was so young. But I do remember that trip, I was already fascinated by everything Nation City meant, even at that age. I must have been unbearable, a tiny loud kid trying to absorb more than his eyes were able to see."  
"You must have been a hell of a kid." John dared speak, softly as well, trying to slip into his friend's mindset. Alexander went on as if he hadn't heard him.  
"They died in a car crash, coming back from the City after some business. My grandmother just came up to me and tried to explain that they weren't coming back. It was strange, like... The last time I saw them I actually said goodbye to them." He was quiet for some time; John wouldn't break that silence. As much as they'd shared with each other, he had never asked about Alexander's parents and why he only ever mentioned his grandmother. He was grateful that he'd never asked about John's family either. "Grandma was great, she's the most wonderful woman in the world, but I couldn't help feeling... abandoned. I mean, all I knew was that they'd left and never returned. All I had was my grandmother's word that they'd died. It's silly and it makes no sense, I know, but there was still a little part of me that felt that maybe that wasn't the truth. That they were not dead at all. And the only explanation I could come up with was that I was a burden they didn't need. Like, somehow, in all the universe's plans, I was a fluke. I wasn't supposed to be there, and they were righting that by going away." Silent tears were falling down his cheeks, but his face was still pointed towards the river. John was looking at him now, trying to wrap his mind around the raw emotion he was witnessing.  
"Alexander..."  
"I feel like that again, tonight. I hadn't felt that in a long time, John, but I'm not sure it was because I had moved on. I might have just been covering those feelings up with work and goals and..." He didn't need to say it.  
"You're not though. A fluke. There's no such thing."  
"I can't help feeling that the whole idea that the universe doesn't make mistakes falls flat when the woman who'd be my perfect soulmate has a bare arm." His voice was cold now, unfeeling.  
"Well, then fuck the universe."

     Alexander turned to look at John for the first time.  
"Fuck the universe?"  
"Yeah, fuck it!" He was smiling at him. "Fuck anything that makes you feel like you're wrong in any way. You're not. You're perfect... you're perfect the way you are, Alexander." John looked away from him, staring at the river with a serious expression while Alex was still looking his way, mirroring their previous position. "Look, I..." He bit his lip, Alexander listened intently. "I can't know what you're feeling right now, it's a shitty situation and there's really nothing I can do about it, but... I just. You can't blame yourself, Alexander, please. Not for what happened to your parents, not for what happened with Eliza. I know life can be a bitch, trust me, I know. But you... You don't give up."  
     John was looking at him now and his eyes looked wet. He didn't understand why. And at once, he was aware of the fact that he was sitting on their bench in the middle of the night. And John... John had found him. He had gone out at three in the morning to look for him in the City and he had found him. He was sitting with him, listening to him, talking to him. He didn't understand, but he also couldn't work his mind up to question it too much. He was there, with him, and he felt without doubt that that was a good thing.  
"I just... I'm tired, John. I don't want to feel alone anymore. And this whole thing just... Before, it seemed like such a straight line: go through life looking for her, find her, the end. Now... Is this what it's going to be like? Testing the waters every time I meet an Elizabeth? Trying not to get my hopes up? How's my heart supposed to endure that? I was starting to feel complete in anticipation and now I just feel more lonely than I ever have, and I... I can't shove it aside anymore. I can't escape that feeling, cover it up keeping myself busy. It's grown and it's taken over all of my mind and I don't know how to banish it. I don't think I can."  
     They were silent for a few beats, Alexander looking down at his hands on his lap. His every movement felt in slow motion, as if life had actually stopped all around him and disturbing that stillness meant a bigger effort than he could muster.

"So don't."  
     He looked up and John was still staring at him. There was something in his eyes, in his whole behaviour, Alexander couldn't explain. An intensity. He couldn't meet his gaze for long, he focused on his fingers and kept thinking about John's mere presence there.  
"Alexander, if you're lonely... Be lonely. Don't shut it out of yourself. It's hard, I know, it's painful and awful but... It's also real, you know?"  
_Real._  There wasn't much to argue with that.

-

     He was in a sort of emotional limbo. Friday night had been a whirlwind of emotions that had completely drained him, to the point of thinking there might not be anything left in him to feel. Then John had found him and... His mind was still swirling from that conversation. He kept reviewing John's words, trying to find meaning in the spaces between the sounds. It didn't make much sense, but Alexander couldn't help the feeling that there was some truth he was not finding. It wasn't unusual for him to feel that way when talking to John, his friend had a cryptic way to him that always seemed to be holding something back. But the look in his eyes that night by the river... Alex could remember many talks on that bench, many thoughts and musings shared. But never had John looked so intensely earnest.  
     Whenever he shook himself from that frustrating path, he went back to her. To Eliza, and to the woman she couldn't be. To the simple words John had said. _You don't give up._ He'd never been one to depend on good odds. A lonely kid with no parents, no soulmate and no friends, he'd grown up defying expectations and keeping his head high. He'd aimed for the top and he'd left his community for bigger things. It seemed, though, that his tenacity had been intrinsically bound to the belief that Elizabeth was there, waiting for him. And as much as he knew there were no timeframes, he'd been counting on them meeting right away.  
     He went back to John's words and he felt weak. It had seemed a blessing, to have been granted a friend whose soulmate had yet to find him also. But where John lived his life with a seemingly self-made drive, Alex was finding his own will crumbling, and himself lacking his friend's endurance. Ashamed. He'd never felt uncomfortable around John before, but now he saw himself diminishing in the eyes of his roommate. They hadn't spoken much all weekend, but John had been by his side at all times, a quiet company that soothed him while at the same time reminding him of his shortcomings.  
     The ever content John, who seemed to be just fine without love. Alex wondered what that might be like and felt instantly hollow.

"Tomorrow, then." The scratching of Alexander's pen over the rough paper of his notebook had stopped. After two days, he was acknowledging the shadow that had loomed over them both all weekend.  
"Tomorrow."  
     John knew he would soon bounce back. He would breathe deeply, roll back his shoulders, and focus on his work until he could regain the hope that whatever happened with Eliza, his Soulmate was still out there and he'd find her. He would go back to sighing to himself when he thought no one could notice, looking out the window with a look of loving longing. He would stand to attention at strangers' conversations trying to catch a name. But for now, for this small period of time encapsulated within a single weekend, John had selfishly cherished the idea of having a friend who wouldn't bolt at the first sign of a girl of a certain name. Of a mind that might be open to the real him.  
     He had his friends, John was aware of that. He had Hercules, who managed to balance a healthy relationship with time for himself and his friends without much trouble. He had Lafayette, who kept a platonic bond with his Adrienne and preferred to devote himself to his other relations. He had Angelica, however new their closeness might be, who seemed eager to engage with others beside her soulmate.  
     But this was _Alexander_. And no matter how much he tried, John couldn't quell the desire within him that he'd be a big part of his life.

"It doesn't feel real, you know?"  
"Huh?" John turned fully towards him. They were now looking at each other from across the room, each sat on their respective beds.  
"All this... What happened, what I'm feeling. It doesn't feel real. It feels like I'm the punchline of a cruel joke."  
"Alex..."  
"I'm sorry, John. I've been thinking about everything you said. It didn't fall on deaf ears, I swear. I just... I wish I could believe what you say, I wish I could feel like everything hasn't fallen apart."  
"You'll bounce back."  
"I don't know..."  
"Well, I do. You'll be fine, Alexander. Whatever happens next, you're not alone. I'm here for you. I'm not going anywhere."  
"I know, and I appreciate that, I do. But it's not the same."  
"Why not?"  
"You know why, John."  
     John was grasping at straws, and he knew it. But he couldn't let Alexander slip away from him. Back to the real world. He needed to keep him with him, just a little bit longer.  
"Look, neither of us have found our soulmates. And we don't know when that might happen. We shouldn't just leave our lives on pause in the meantime, why can't we be enough for each other, for now? Who says friendship can't be important?" He was opening his wounds for Alexander to see, hoping that he'd understand, that he'd choose him in a battle he didn't even know he was fighting. It was unfair, it was a mess, but John's instincts had taken over and he couldn't close the gates that were flooding the distance between them.  
"John, it's not that simple."  
"But it is!"  
"Not for me! I don't know how you can just not care, I don't see how it can be the same for you, but the rest of us don't feel that way. I wish I could, I wish I didn't care, but it's not my reality. I actually want to be happy, can't you understand that?"  
"I'm just saying you can still be happy, Alexander. You're an amazing person, you don't need some girl to define you!"  
" _'Some girl'_? Are you seriously being dismissive about my fucking Soulmate, Laurens?"  
"It's not-"  
"No, you know what? You're always talking about not settling, about not setting limits for ourselves. And now you're telling me not to dream of my own happiness? Fuck you. If you can't respect this, if you can't respect _me_ , then I don't know how you can call yourself my friend. If you're so wise to be above the wishes of mere mortals then good for you! Congratulations, John! But you don't get to look down on me for wanting this."  
"Alexander, I'm not looking down on you. I'm just saying there's another way. I understand you, I-"  
"No. You don't. You don't care how I'm feeling, you're just trying to antagonise me right now and I'm too upset to even try to consider why you would do that."  
"Alexander, I-"  
"Don't, John. Please. I don't want to talk to you right now. At least try to respect that." His words were final, and he turned his back towards John as he settled in for the night.  
     The man that had seemed so open a handful of hours ago had closed the door on John's face and he didn't know how to stop himself from desperately banging his fist against it, but he'd have to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about to get worse before it gets better, but I've finally started stepping on the gas pedal with some intent.


	11. The Eye

  
_"You can't force your mind to process what it's not ready for. We build walls around the things we can't cope with and push them to a corner inside ourselves. And we hope that, when we're finally ready, the walls are willing to come down."  
_ _-Hamilton's journal, unmarked entry._  


     It wasn't until Wednesday that Alexander was forced to look at his mistake in the face. Eliza was understandably missing from their shared class, but as he stepped out of the classroom, Angelica Schuyler approached him. He would've been scared of her if he'd been able to feel anything. He'd been walking numbly all week, forgoing even his coffee in the hope that feeling sleepy might make his mind work slower.  
"Alexander. Can we talk?" Her lips were pursed and her gaze stern. He wanted to say no, he wanted to cuss at her and storm away.  
"Of course." He lead her to a nearby bench instead. The university campus had these small grass areas surrounded by hallways. They reminded Alex of some pictures on an old book back home, of religious buildings of some ancient time. They felt like a trap.  
"Listen, I'm trying really hard not to be pissed at you right now, because my sister's been a mess and I promised myself I wouldn't let anyone hurt her." Angelica said. "But I also know that me hating you will only cause her more pain."  
"Angelica, I'm truly sorry. I care about Eliza, she's been so nice to me, and she doesn't deserve anything that's happening. If I had known... I don't know, really, I didn't even know such a thing could happen. I'm not from here, you know? And Eliza helped me a lot, she made me realise I don't know half as much about the world as I thought I did..." He forced his mind away from the thought of John.  
"She's wonderful like that."  
"She is."  
They sat in silence for a few moments. Even in the awkward position it put him, Alex appreciated Angelica's love for her sister and the strong protective instinct that came over her. He'd seen her with a man he guessed was her soulmate once or twice, but he'd never witnessed such a strong bond between grown-up siblings.  
     He spoke without really thinking.  
"Angelica, I know it might take some time for her to be comfortable, and I respect that. But there's nothing I'd like more than to apologise and try to make amends, to be her friend."   
     Friends. He didn't need to try to feel the calm of that first coffee he'd shared with Eliza, what seemed like ages ago. Even without the prospect of loving her, she had made his life better that day. Had raised his spirits and helped him without asking for anything in return. She had made him feel warm and comfortable. He wanted to gift her back that same feeling.  
     Angelica gave him a small smile, even when her eyes were narrowed, as if sizing him up. As if her pleasant expression hid some deeper thoughts behind it. It reminded him of John; he quickly looked away.  
"If I know Eliza at all, she'll be glad to know that. She truly is the kindest person in this world... And people already avoid her because of this, as if she were contagious or some shit. As if it wasn't hard enough not to have a designated soulmate, she has to deal with everyone having their heads up their asses. Her world was already hard enough without some idiot mistaking her for his soulmate..." She was smirking at him and there was no malice in her tone. "She could use a friend. Just give her time."  
"Thank you, Angelica. It means a lot." He smiled and stood up, nodding at her goodbye.  
"Alexander." She didn't move. "Give yourself some time as well. You're alright."

-

     He was going to bed early and sleeping late for the first time in his life. So he didn't know if he kept missing him, or if John was even sleeping in their dorm room at all. They'd only run into each other a few times, a handful of seconds of awkward nods and no eye-contact. Alexander wasn't sure who was avoiding who at that point, but it had been eight days since they'd last spoken. He didn't know how he felt about that.  
     He was hurt by what John had said, his words still ringing in his head no matter how hard he pushed them away. He didn't want to remind himself that John couldn't have meant to be hurtful. It was easier to hate him, even if he couldn't quite convince himself that that's how he felt.  
     The thing he hated the most was actually missing his friend.

     It was Tuesday, and Alexander had given up on his coffee purge and gathered up the courage to head back inside the coffee shop. He walked in hesitantly, but once inside, the smell of coffee grains and the buzz of the people milling about felt right. He didn't glance at the table where he and Eliza had sat, but his heart ached a bit less than he thought it would.  
     He was stationed on a communal table at the back of the shop when a tall man sat down loudly next to him.  
"Laf. Hey." He cringed. There was no way he could imagine a conversation with John's best friend could end with him on top.  
"How are you, dear? I heard what happened and I've been worried about you."  
"I'm..." _Fine?_ His mind stopped him before blurting out that lie. If he was going to feel like crap, he might as well be honest about it. "Not great, honestly. My whole world's turned upside down and I'm feeling kind of lost."  
"Well, I wouldn't have expected you to be hopping gayly around." He smiled. There was always that shine in Lafayette's eyes that felt sincere. Alex loved that about him. It made him feel comfortable. "There are no magic solutions to these things, Alex, dear. I'm glad you're allowing yourself to be sad though. Time will help, I'm sure." _If you're lonely... Be lonely_.  
"Yeah... I've stopped trying to understand. Well, not really, but I'm just... I'm doing better at the whole _it is what it is_ thing, at least. Baby steps, huh?"  
"We do what we can with the cards we're dealt. You can spend your time wondering why, but even if you had an answer, would it change anything?" Alex had only ever discussed menial things with Lafayette, but his sweet tone of voice now held a depth that touched him. "We... We're so used to the easy things. Most people won't ever go through what you're going through, life will be simpler from the start. And you can envy them, and wish it was your case, but what good will that do to your situation? You can only try and make the most of it, this winding path you're on instead. You get to do different things. You get to make real friends, you get to devote yourself to your passions, your studying... yourself. You get to make yourself into a better man. And whenever you do meet your soulmate, your love will be all the richer because of this."  
"I um... I guess, yeah." Lafayette's words danced around his mind, blurring, transforming, mixing themselves with the ones he'd been trying to silence.  
"What I'm saying, in short, is that we miss you! John might get to see you all the time but Herc and I have been deprived from our newest friend's presence for far too long!"  
"You wanted to see me?" Alex locked away the burst of thoughts about why John would have not deemed it important to share their falling out with his best friends.  
"Of course, dear! We're friends, we have fun together, don't we? I haven't heard anyone trash Professor Burr in weeks! It's not right!"  
     Alexander felt warm again. As pleased as he'd been to spend time with them, he hadn't stopped thinking about Lafayette and Hercules as John's friends, and it didn't occur to him that they might want to see him regardless of...  
"John and I aren't speaking." It just came out, and Lafayette's expression changed to one of confusion while Alex tried to figure out why he had just said that. "We haven't spoken for over a week. I've barely even seen him."  
"Oh, I... He's been acting strange but he didn't mention anything. I just thought he was distracted, not..."  
"He... He said some things to me... And I got upset and basically told him to fuck off. Guess he listened."  
"Alex, look. I won't pretend to know what happened between you, but try not to be too hard on him. John is... It's hard for him to make friends, and I know he felt close to you. We were quite relieved he was able to get along with his roommate actually." He chuckled to himself, and Alex felt left out for a second. "I know he can be quite intense sometimes. He believes... He feels strongly about things. And he can be bold about it, and he can be overwhelming. But I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you."  
"I know, I...I'm not mad at him. Not anymore. He just... He has a way of making you... think about things. And I usually love that about him, but... Well, he should really learn to sense when's not the right time for that." Alex chuckled himself and Lafayette smiled.  
"That's probably right. Whatever he said though, if he led you down that road it's because he thought it would help you."  
"I know. I'm just not sure there was anything that would have helped me at that point."

-

     The story was about two women in love, but their sexuality wasn't the only thing that was new for John. In a world of romantic straightforwardness, it felt strange to read of people second guessing their feelings, making assumptions about what others felt, being scared to enter a relationship. It was rare, also, to read of two people in a relationship missing each other. Spending time apart wasn't unheard of in John's world, but he'd never known anyone who had described that time as heart wrenchingly as his book did. He guessed the certainty of soulmates quelled a lot of the fears that arose with distance: oblivion, coldness. The characters cried and hurt and tried to busy themselves to no use; without a direct means of communicating, they were in the dark about their lover and it messed with their minds.   
     Alexander wasn't his lover, of course, but he felt a strain after so many days of silence. He longed for the comfortable quiet they used to share, where he could enjoy his company even if he was barely aware they were together. He wondered if Burr had said anything ridiculous, if he had run into Eliza already. He wondered if he was able to focus on his classes, what he thought of the chilly weather, if he would ever forgive John.  
     He couldn't bear the thought of facing him and receiving an indifferent gaze, so he preferred avoiding him altogether. It wasn't a good plan, it wasn't even much of a plan at all, but John was tired and sad and it was the best he could think of. He spent many nights on Lafayette's couch, and many afternoons hiding in his favourite bodega. It had a small counter set up against the window and he sat there for hours staring out at the quiet city. A small part of him hoped perhaps Alexander would remember the place and find him there.   
     He hadn't spoken to his friends about the fallout. He knew he had messed up, he was exposing himself too much, giving Alexander too much power. And in risking himself, he could be risking his friends as well. He couldn't face the kind but stern faces that would tell him how wrong he had been. He didn't think he could explain what he saw in Alexander. He could dismiss it as a byproduct of his crush, some wishful machination that tried to make it possible that they could be. But there was something there, John was so sure. And when that something is right there in front of you...   
     It was a weak excuse, but John had been so detached, so resigned for so long. It was hard even to blame himself from wanting to believe it. 

     So he was in pain, but he knew himself. Knew he was strong, he could cope, and eventually he'd be alright. Even if it hurt, even if it meant keeping his guard a little bit higher from now on, distancing himself a little bit more... John sighed and stopped mid-walk. He didn't want to live behind the walls he could build inside his mind. He'd finally allowed himself to feel something and he wasn't sure he'd be able to go back.   
     For the first time in a long while, it hurt to think. So he walked. 

     Evening came around and with it came the rain, leaving John no choice but to return to his dorm room and hope for a few moments of ignoring each other instead of a confrontation. He stopped outside the door; there was laughter coming from inside the room. A room that had seemed almost dead the past week. He went inside. 

"John, dear! There you are!"  
"Man, you're drenched! I didn't even notice it was raining out."  
"How could you notice anything with Laf's shouting?" Alexander was smiling at their friends, laughing as they sat on the floor sharing snacks. He turned his head and looked at John.  
     His smile changed tone slightly, but it was still there and John could breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed I gave John a bit of an Evan Hansen vibe without realising. Seems fitting though.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave your thoughts in comment form. Smoke signals and homing pigeons also accepted.


	12. The Lie

_"In hindsight, it made sense. [...] these notions were powerful enough to bind society together and keep us working as a well-oiled procreating machine. Humanity was safe. We just weren't aware of what we had given up for it."  
_ _-Hamilton's journal, March 12th, 2176._

     John might have thought that it was just like before, but it wasn't really. They'd hung out together enough times, the four of them, that they could have fun doing nothing at all. But there was something different in the air that evening. Was it heavy? Was it tense? John couldn't find the words to describe it. He thought Alexander might, if they were ever to discuss their own lives with as much passion as they talked about more abstract thoughts. Because all of a sudden it seemed like a possibility, for them to talk again. To talk, in the real sense of the word; on their bench, during their walks, from the depths of their minds and their hearts.  
     Alexander had smiled at him and John had dared to join his friends, cautiously at first. He had sat down with them and asked what they were doing there.  
"What does it look like we're doing? Drinking and bonding!" Hercules had laughed and it had become clear the bottle in his hand wasn't his first or second one. John had been startled by the beer that appeared in front of his face, held by a hand connected to an arm part of the body of the man he thought he'd never speak to again. He'd had a look in his eyes, ever so expressive. John didn't consider himself an expert in figuring out the code that Alexander's eyes spoke with, but he'd seen in that one look a will to mend. He'd grabbed the bottle that served as a peace offering with both hands, locking eyes with him and holding his hand beneath his for a moment. A silent thank you.

"I cannot _believe_  you've been sitting on this story for three days! We need to come up with some system for this." Hercules finally managed to speak after the burst of giggles that had been provoked by Alexander's retelling of Professor Burr's mishap with a broken umbrella that week.  
"You mean like a group chat? Like the one we already have?"  
"Shut up, Hamilton! No, I mean like... Like a Burr alert!"  
"I am not programming his phone to trigger an alarm at our apartment." Lafayette could always read through Herc's fantasies. They usually involved using Laf's computer skills in bizarre ways, so it wasn't too hard.  
"Oh come ooooooon! What if I miss Burr news among all the stupid shit we chat about?"  
"You can just search the group for 'CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS CRAP' all in caps. That's usually how Alexander's Burr rants start." John smiled ruefully at his roommate. Worried for a second he might have become too comfortable before his glare softened to an obviously fake offended stare.  
"Oh John, dear, you're useless."  
"What?!"  
"You'd be lost without me. Alexander starts _every_ rant like that. Your search results would be endless with everything he has to say." Laf rolled his eyes and faced towards Hercules. "What you need to do is check the timestamp to match the time Alex has class with him. Probably about twenty minutes in if whatever set him off happened at the beginning of the lesson, otherwise right at the end. He wouldn't risk his notes missing something if the incident happened during actual class."  
     John laughed loudly. It was just like Lafayette, really, to have a mental behavioural analysis of their friends, ready to put to use when the need arose. He loved his friend and his weird, amazing brain. They'd known each other for years now but John still was amazed every time he came out with stuff like that. On the outside, Lafayette was the loving, easy going friend. He'd helped John with most awkward social interactions in his college career and that was already an asset John would value endlessly. But at any moment he could let you in, give you a peek into the workings of his non-stop mind, and John would always gape. He was truly lucky to have found such amazing people to surround himself with.  
"Alright I'm legitimately scared right now. Have you been spying on me, Laf?"  
"Oh please, Alexander, I can read you like a book. You're not as mysterious as you'd like to think, dear."  
"Oh shoot! My cover's blown!" Alexander slapped his own face dramatically, a little too hard judging by the offended look he gave his own hand. "Please don't tell anyone my secret!" He looked pleadingly into Lafayette's eyes.  
"What secret?"  
"That I'm embarrassingly predictable!"  
     The four of them laughed. _Predictable_. John sighed to himself as he let his eyes set a few seconds longer on Alexander's face as he laughed; it was a sight he might not have seen again. He was so sure they were done, even the smallest parts of him that dared to hope for a reconciliation were painfully aware of their naïveté. They'd need to talk it out eventually. He'd ask Alexander to forgive him, acknowledge he had overstepped. But for whatever reason, he had decided to take the first step. He had reached out with a smile and a beer, and without opening his mouth he'd said it, clearly: _we'll be alright_. John had wondered about what would happen to them, but every possible scenario started with him ducking his head, swallowing his pride and risking the door shutting in front of his face and locked for good. He could have never predicted Alexander would offer him an in.

-

"Text us when you get home!"  
     John closed the door with a slight frown at the way Laf and Hercules wobbled down the hallway. There had definitely been a few too many beers going around.  
"Think they'll be alright?" Alexander said as he grabbed as many empty bottles from the floor as he could to bring to the garbage can. John helped pick up the pizza boxes and napkins.  
"Yeah, Laf might be a mess but Hercules is a surprisingly functional drunk. He won't remember how he did it in the morning but he'll get them home safe."  
     It only took a few moments to tidy the room up and then they were alone, with nothing but the space of words unsaid between them.  
"Look, Alexander, I...-"  
"Can I please talk first, John?" Alexander interrupted him. They were standing in the middle of the room. John nodded. "This is... It wasn't an easy time for me. There was so much going on in my head, so many things that I... Shit." He ran a hand through his hair as he paced. "I swear I was sure of what I wanted to say, I don't know why I'm stumbling."  
"It's okay, you're not getting graded, Alex." John dared a teasing half-smile and he chuckled.  
"I know, don't be an ass when I'm trying to apologise!"  
"Apologise? Alexander you don't-"  
"Please, just let me. I've had time to think about this and even when I tried not to think about it I did. I thought... It's weird, I... I haven't seen Eliza yet, and I'm sure that will be harder than there's words to describe, but... I've had some time to process that -I even talked to Angelica, which was unexpectedly comforting- and I've come to the conclusion that, however difficult it might be, I want to work to build a friendship with her. It wasn't fair of me to put all my soulmate expectations on her, but she's a great person and I'm still glad I met her. And well..." He stopped his pacing for a moment and looked into John's eyes. "I'm glad I met you, too."  
     John could feel his heart beating in his chest. He couldn't find words to interrupt Alexander this time; there wasn't a way to safely explain what it meant to him that he felt that way. He had been scared, yes, unwilling to lose his friend. But he hadn't been able to regret his actions, however unwise they might have been. He cared for Alexander, and with John, caring for someone wasn't always a soft, comforting act. He pushed, and he challenged, and he drove the people he cared about. He didn't allow himself to be close to many people, but when he did, he cared with a passion rarely matched.  
"This past week has been... it's been rough. Through everything I was feeling about Eliza, about myself. Everything that was going through my mind, it hurt not to be able to share with you. I felt I had a right to be upset, I felt that you didn't deserve me to come back and tell you what I was feeling as if you hadn't hurt me, but at the same time... At the same time I felt I was hurting myself by refusing to speak to you. I'm not saying it makes sense, honestly. And I'm not saying I don't feel like you fucked up, I just... I ran into Laf today, and we talked about it and... I know you. And I realised that I trust you didn't intend to hurt me with the things you said. I understand you must have so much going on inside your head, and that my experience with Eliza must have stirred a lot of things within you, too. So, what I'm saying is... I miss you, and I'd like for us to be okay."  
"Alexander, I'm so sorry. I can be... You were upset, and I should have comforted you. That's what a friend should do. I get carried away sometimes and I thought... I tried to make you see things my way and you were going through your thing, it wasn't fair of me. You're allowed to deal with this in whatever way you can. I shouldn't be judging you, and I won't. I think you're such a strong person, and I know you'll get through this. And I don't ever want to not be there if you want to talk to me." John struggled with what he wanted to say. With what he knew he couldn't say, and all the things he was feeling. In everything he knew about Alexander, he'd never experienced this side of him. This... kindness. Even in the face of disappointment, frustration; even with his whole life trembling, he found time in his mind to try to understand John. "If you can forgive me, I'd be honoured to remain your friend."  
"I forgive you, John." They stood there, smiling at each other for a moment.

"I didn't expect to make friends, you know?" Alexander sat down on his bed now, the tension from before melting a little. "I mean, I knew I'd have a roommate and I hoped to get along fine with him, but I didn't really... I didn't expect _you_." He wasn't sure what he was saying anymore. He was tired and emotionally exhausted from the whole of last week. Still, there was a calm in speaking to John again that loosened up his restrains.  
"Honestly? I was very ready to hate you." John said as he mirrored Alex's position on his own bed. "Don't look at me like that, not _you_ you, you know what I mean. The concept of the mysterious roommate. Best case I hoped for was polite nodding and keeping out of each other's space. You're kind of hard to hate though."  
"Oh, right. I'm sure you could get tips from pretty much everyone else I've ever met."  
"Nah, I think I'll keep you around." He smiled softly and for a moment, Alex felt at peace with everything that was going on. Just for a moment, though.  
"I _am_ sorry, you know."  
"Alexander, stop. We're okay."  
"Yeah, but still. I know I can be pushy and I know the whole Soulmate thing is not something you like to dwell too much on."  
"Yeah..."  
"I'm sorry if I was ever too insistent on that. I know I talk a lot about it, but often I think it would be nice to be able to forget it... To put it in the back of my mind and just focus on the rest of my life until she arrives. I just..." He chuckles; it's a small, sad thing. An effort to force his spirits to lift a little. "I can't seem to manage that. You'll have to let me in on how you do it, John."  
"I don't."  
"What?"  
"The 'whole Soulmate thing'? There's not a moment that goes by that I'm not thinking about it." Alex was silent. John was staring at his lap, fidgeting; he'd never seen him do that before. Once more, Alex had managed to make his friend uncomfortable by bringing up the same old topic. John seemed to be struggling to figure out what to say, a slight frown on his face, words coming out slow and carefully. "It's just... more complicated... for me. I don't really see things as... Optimistically as you do."  
     Alexander wasn't stupid, not at all. He knew well enough that his own drive and perceived optimism about Elizabeth was the way he'd found not to panic when he realised she wasn't around when he was young. His own brain had figured out in those first minutes of wondering, when her name had appeared on his arm and the silence had become heavy, that he needed a place to locate her that would make sense. Nation City had been it, college had been it. It seemed far away enough, but now he was there. There was no distance left between them, and yet they hadn't met. It wasn't optimism, not really; it was a survival strategy. She _had_ to be near.  
"John, don't say that. You'll be fine, we both will be. Trust me, I know I look confident but... I know the pain that comes with her absence. But we're here and so are they. You'll find your soulmate, I know it, she's waiting for you and you'll be so happy. I know it."

"No you don't"  
_Please stop._  
"Yes, John, I do." _Please don't._ "I know it's hard to believe, I know there's moments where it feels helpless but you deserve happiness."  
_Shut up._  
_Shut up._  
_Shut up._  
"Alex..." John's voice barely came out a whisper.  
"We just... We need a plan."  
_No._  
"We'll get student sheets, cross reference names, I'm sure between us and the guys we cover a good amount of classes in campus."  
_Please._  
"We'll make a list of all the Marthas, all the Elizabeths, we'll find them. They have to be here. We'll find them."  
     John wasn't sure if Alexander was talking to him or to himself at that point, but he couldn't take it anymore.  
"Alex, no. We can't."  
"I know it's not the usual way, but nothing about this has been normal anyway! Why shouldn't we nudge the universe a little bit?"  
     He was smirking, but his eyes were restless, a desperate search within them. He was begging John to accompany him in his mission to comb the university looking for a girl and it was all too much. He'd been so good. He'd been so quiet. So many nights, so many talks and wishes shared and he'd been so tempted, to just slide in a quiet comment. To plant a small seed and care to see if it took root within Alexander. So many moments, walking the line between asleep and awake, when he'd conjured up ways to say it without really saying it. Safe ways. And every time, John had stopped himself. He'd sobered up, shaken his head, softened his eyes. He'd looked away from those eyes and continued on.  
"I..."  
"John, come on. We're together in this, I know there's nothing we can't do." Alexander was standing now, a slightly deranged look on his face, a weird smile. "We're smart, we can crack this. We can find them!"  
"I've already found her!"  
     John was standing now. His eyes were wide and glassy and his chest heaved just from breathing. Something had cracked. Time stood still as Alexander's whole demeanour changed, closing in on himself.  
"You've..."  
"I've already found her and I wasn't happy. Damn it, not everything is that easy, Alexander."  
"What are you talking about, John? Martha? You met her?"  
John sighed.  
"Yes, I met her."  
"But that's good! Why didn't you tell me?"  
"Because I was seventeen. I..." John sat down, grabbed his hair with his hands. This was where he'd landed himself. He had opened himself, he had allowed himself to care, and here he was. About to hand his life over to the confused looking man in front of him. "I met her at our Reveal."  
"Oh." Alexander sat down as well. The energy seemed to have drained completely from his body. "You said..."  
"I know. I lied. I didn't... She wasn't..." There was no way of saying it, was there?  
"You didn't feel it?"  
     John's face shot upwards to stare at Alexander with wide eyes. That was it. That understanding, that reaction that made him so hopeful despite the odds. That made John feel that this man couldn't be the naïve, believing kid he seemed so often. That there was _something_ there.  
"Yeah, I... I kind of knew already I wouldn't. Before, I mean."  
"How could you have known that?" He was speaking so softly, so carefully. Understanding; kind. The side of Alexander he was starting to realise was much bigger than he'd previously thought. He was listening, and he was patient, and caring, and maybe, just maybe...  
"I don't... I don't like women. Not like that."  
"What... What are you talking about?"  
"I... Shit, I know it's not easy to understand, Alexander, I'm sorry but... Yeah, I just don't. I know this is probably the first you've ever heard of this but it's possible and it's my truth so I'm asking you please to just trust that I'm being real."  
     John was beginning to sound desperate. There was no going back now and the fear he'd been able to ignore was now at his throat, clenching, squeezing, as Alexander's brow furrowed further as he tried to understand.  
"John, what..."  
     His words jumbled, everything got mixed up. He knew this, he was so clear about all of this but he'd never said it out loud. Not like this, not to someone who might not get it. He'd never exposed himself to someone else with only the hope they won't break him. He could feel the tears forming in his eyes and as much as he wanted to will them away there they stayed.  
"I suppose other people have done it. Forced themselves to fake it, get together and laugh and live a whole normal life. But I just... I couldn't. I couldn't... kill myself like that. I can't make myself into something I'm not. I'm attracted to men. Always have been, I guess."  
     Alexander looked lost, John could almost hear the whirring as his brain tried to process the words he was hearing, a loud noise to try and cover the weight of the silence that was threatening to settle forever and make life freeze, trapping John in this moment. And then a last, weak attempt at fitting everything in what he knew.  
"Are... Are you trying to tell me your soulmate's a man?"  
     John sighed. He got up from his bed and pulled up his sleeve, removing the wristband that covered his mark. His hands were shaking but he wouldn't pull away now. He'd come this far, there was no going back. There was no point in trying to understand why he had started down this road. There wasn't a particular reason why this had been the last day he'd been willing to lie. No reason why he was unable to contain his truth any longer, but he had done it. He was baring his soul for Alexander to peruse, knowing full well he could turn around and expose him to the Council in a second. John took a deep breath; somewhere along the way, he had made the choice to trust Alexander with his life.  
     He turned his wrist to show him: the name _Martha_ could barely be read amidst scars and scratches. This could be his last act as a free man, this could be the last thing he ever did. If this was it, he'd bare every bit of his true self, he'd say his truth out loud without hesitation and only the desperate hope that he'll be believed.

“I’m trying to tell you that Soulmates are a lie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this now has over 900 hits which I don't know seems huge so I'm freaking out a bit but thank you all, whoever you are, for reading!
> 
> I'm starting college again this week and it's gonna be a hectic year so I'll do my best to keep the update schedule at once a week but it might vary a bit, I'm sorry! Design school is very demanding, plus work, plus I'm moving out in a month so yeah... Life! Unnecessary details!
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading, commenting and leaving kudos! <3


	13. The Rest Of Your Life

  _"I can't wish for you two to be here with me, that would be too idealistic. I do wish I remembered more of you, wish I'd been older, wish I'd gotten to know you more. What would you say about all this? Would you reassure me, telling me it's just a bump in the way, not to lose hope? Or would you...  
_ _I wish I could remember what was written on your arms."  
_ _-Hamilton's journal, June 12th, 2142._

     He couldn't stop walking. The world moved around him and he needed the motion to stay afloat, so he walked at a brisk pace with no set direction. Through the hallways of the dorm building. Down the galleries and through the patios. Past locked doors, and back again. He quickened his pace as much as he could but it was still no match for the speed of his thoughts. Words, images, ideas, they flew past so fast he couldn't make sense of anything but the chaos his mind had become. The drawer he kept so neatly arranged had been hit by an earthquake that threw everything out of place; out of the cabinet, out of the room. Now there was no room, there was nothing to contain his thoughts anymore.  
     Alexander was standing in the middle of the back patio when his legs finally gave out and he stopped. He took a few last steps and let himself fall against a wall. Sitting in the dark, the world suddenly still, there was no escaping anymore. It was just him and the thoughts staring at him, and a desperate need to put them back in order.  
     He took a deep breath and tried to stop himself from panicking. If it made no sense, it couldn't be real. Nothing had to change if he was just faced with a crazy theory with no grounds in reality. He'd have to deal with his roommate being a loon, but that would be it.  
     Except this wasn't a random delusional stranger. This was the man who'd made him believe he could have room in his life for a friend. The person who'd made him feel at home while miles away from everything he ever knew. The one who'd talked him through his mind's wildest wonderings instead of rolling his eyes and changing the subject. This was his friend, who understood him, who he cared for. This was _John_.

     Whatever else he doubted, Alex knew he was smart. And if he focused enough, this was simply a problem that needed solving. So he lined up all the pieces in front of him and got to work. He would find a way to put it all back together, and he would come out on top of this. He would go back and explain to John how wrong he was.  
     That's what Alexander thought at 1 in the morning, as he took a deep breath and started to think. By 3, his hair was a mess and his hands were shaking again. He was smart, he was sure he was smart. And that was what condemned the whole thing in the first place.

-

     John liked sitting on the floor. It had been a small rebellion when he was a kid, to neglect any object deemed fit to sit on and settle down there. Eventually, it became a safe place; there was nowhere further to fall. There he was, back against the corner that his bed and the wall made, knees bent, gently biting the sides of his fingers.  
     He had finally done it. Any minute, the door could burst open and a group of white-clad agents would be taking him away. He remembered seeing it happen and his heart beat a little faster. The lady from the bookstore he loved was never seen again; the store closed and no one seemed to notice. He shouldn't have known, but he'd been restless that night and had sneaked out of his room to walk the city and he'd seen them. He would never forget her face as they walked her towards the van. She looked absolutely fierce. It was years until he understood why she wasn't crying, or begging. Even if they'd caught her, she had won. He never knew how she lived her life but she had known, she'd been aware and free and no one could ever take that away from her.  
     He tried to think of her now, to build up that same courage. He wasn't entirely failing, but there was one thought that made him feel weak and he couldn't shake it off. He didn't want to go down like this, he didn't want it to be because of _him_. John desperately wanted to believe that Alex wouldn't tell on him, that he'd understand. That the kindness he'd discovered in him would prevail and, whatever happened, he'd care. It was a selfish thought, it was a stupid thought. He'd risked everything to try and bring this one man into the truth; had it really been worth it?  
     Every time he'd questioned himself, asked himself if he was willing to face the risks his research entailed, he'd been sure. Every time he had known, if he were to be found, it would have been worth everything. Tonight, he wasn't so sure. Tonight, he had something to lose.  
     He was still not willing to give up on Alexander.

-

     It was 4 in the morning when the door to the room swung open suddenly; John didn't look up at first. Then he heard the heavy, trembling breathing, the gasps every few seconds. Alexander stood in front of him, a mess. His eyes were wild, roaming the room without break, fleeting to John's figure every so often but never for more than a second.  
     John didn't know what to think. He made no movements to approach Alexander; perhaps he'd calm down and they'd talk. Perhaps he was stalling for the officers to get there. It broke John's heart. Whatever was going through his mind, Alexander was struggling and he knew, John knew what it was like to have everything in your life turn inside out.

“You!” Alex was shouting, still not looking at him. “You can’t! You… How. You.” He ran his hands roughly through his hair, his face. His wild eyes finally found John’s. “You had no right! You… You had no right to take his away from me!”  
“Shit.” John was up on his feet. He walked around his roommate to close the door. “Alex, you need to be quiet.”  
“Quiet? Are you fucking kidding me? You blow everything to pieces and are concerned for the tone of my voice?”  
    He grabbed Alex’s shoulders and spoke with a soft but firm voice. “Alexander, you’re allowed to freak out, but if you keep yelling you’re going to get us both killed, so shut up.”  
    It seemed to do the trick. Alexander frowned; his breathing was still laboured but his eyes were starting to focus again, on John. He bit his lip and nodded, barely. John sighed; still not letting go of his shoulders, he directed them to sit on his bed. He hurried to get Alex a glass of water before the flood that was coming.

    They sat there quietly for a while. Alexander’s mind was so full of questions but he was also so, so tired. He didn’t have the will to understand his own actions, why he was there, why even look at John again. He’d passed the threshold of rational thinking and entered a realm of pure emotion, and everything there was a mess. A mess of wishes, of expectations, of desires; a jumble of contradicting feelings trying to block one another, merging together in chaos. He ran a hand through his face and realised he was crying.  
    John didn’t say anything, he just sat there with him. Waiting. They both knew they had a difficult conversation coming, and maybe these were the last few moments they’d spend together without completely hating each other. Alex allowed himself a second to mourn his friendship, then he sat up straighter.  
"Why would you say this to me? Why would you make me suffer like this?” The emotional beast within himself wanted to lock itself away again. To drown itself in books and tasks and anything that could make it forget itself. He wasn’t shouting anymore, but every word hurt his throat as it came out.  
    John looked into his eyes for the first time since they sat down and Alex ached to be the object of such an earnest look. He wanted so badly to just be mad at him. John spoke softly.  
"Because you were already suffering, Alexander. You were already feeling inadequate and awful about Eliza and it _killed_ me. It killed me to see you beat yourself up, thinking there was something wrong with you. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you, Alexander.”  
“How can you even know that, John?”  
“Because. I've felt guilty and dirty for too long before I realised the problem wasn't me. That this system is the one that's wrong. If you believe just one thing that I'm saying please let it be this: you're perfect, you deserve happiness and no one, _no one_ has any right to take that away from you."  
   Alex was breathing hard, his heart beating faster than he thought it was possible and his mind trying to catch up with everything that had been thrown its way in the last few hours.  
"Alexander I... I know I can be a shithead, and I know I'm a mess but I can't apologise for this. I never wanted to bring you pain, but I believe... I believe you have the right to the truth, you know? I believe everyone does. This... thing people do. Following some ink on their arm, believing that's the only thing that will ever grant them happiness... That's not right, Alex. That's not really living. Living is about making choices, not letting some higher entity take all agency away from you. I understand it's easy and comfortable but it's not... It's not real."  
"I _made_ a choice, John. I chose to come here despite everyone in my town thinking it was stupid. I chose to read and research and study history even when nobody seems to care further than a few notes in the History of the New Nation. I'm not a puppet. And it hurts to know you think so little of me."  
"That's... That's why this was so hard, Alexander. I know you. I've heard you speak and I've seen your mind and it's so rich and amazing it broke my heart every time I felt it being constrained by your longing for your soulmate. It hurt me to know that you would find her and all of that brightness you have in you, all those amazing thoughts would dim down in order to focus on her."  
"So you don't believe I deserve to be loved?"  
"Of course I do, you deserve it Alexander, of course. But... I would hate to see you get lost in that love. Stop being yourself, stop thinking for yourself. Submit yourself to the will of a relationship that's been forced upon you whether you know it or not. Because you have writing on your arm, because the world has told you that that's what it means to be happy and complete.”  
   Alex was silent. He’d thought about this a lot that night. About love, and soulmates. He thought about the relationships he knew. About his parents. Did they have each other’s names on their arms? Did their destiny put them together or did they chose it? Was he the legacy of true love, or a bastard kid? Did that distinction even make any sense? And what if… What if there was no Elizabeth at all? If Soulmates really were a lie, what if he’d already met someone who could make him happy, but had shunned them away in favour of the promise of a name? How could anyone live with this knowledge?  
"I don't understand... How can you believe in love when you think that way?”  
    John smiled a new kind of smile. A small one, honest with a hint of longing and affection. No matter what, Alex was still making note of those.  
"Because I've seen it. The real thing. People caring about each other regardless of what's written on their arms. Making a conscious decision, choosing each other with full knowledge that nothing is granted. It's a leap, and it's not the safety of meeting your soulmate's eyes at your Reveal. It's scary and uncertain and, Alexander, I swear, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I think you deserve love, but I think you deserve it like that. You shouldn't play it safe. You shouldn't just... settle.”

   The world was quiet then. John didn’t know what to think anymore, or what to say. Alexander was there, he was there and he was listening to him and it was an amazing feeling. But he was struggling with the truth, of course, and John would have guessed he was trying to form enough arguments in his head to shut John’s words out.

“Alex… Why did you come back? Why didn't you just report me?"  
"You know why."  
    John frowned. He wants to believe Alexander gets it, that he accepts it, but it’s still just a wish.  
"You were right about me, John. About everything. I thought I was so smart... I really thought I had everything figured out. Coming to Nation City has been a slap on the face after another, and this is just the culmination of everything that's been fed to me these past few months. I'm not smart, I'm not special."  
"Alex..."  
"I should have known. I can't... I can't believe it. I really wanted to hate you, you know? I wanted to be furious at you, I wanted to tear apart your every argument and see you humiliated for being so dense. I wanted to rise to the top knowing I was the better man, and that everything you'd made me doubt was just manipulation and deceit."  
John looked down at his hands on his lap.  
"But it wasn't, was it? I keep going over everything in my head... All the things you said... I keep trying to find ways to prove you wrong and coming up short. I have the words, I have everything that's been repeated to me all my life. But it feels suddenly hollow, it feels... It feels like just words.  
I kept... I kept circling back to Eliza, you know? All this time I've been thinking about how it made no sense... How it was cruel and unfair that someone would be denied love... I was angry at the universe for deeming any one person, especially someone as wonderful as Eliza, as unworthy of love. But I never once thought to question..."  
     John looked up and Alexander met his eyes. There was an earnestness there, a raw emotion that made John uncomfortable but at the same time kept him from looking away. At that moment they were both bare, naked of everything they'd ever been told, and Alexander was reaching out to touch some sort of truth.  
"You weren't lying, were you?"  
   John could only shake his head slightly. "I'm sorry, Alexander."  
   Alexander took a deep breath. "Don't be." His eyes were full of tears and his breathing seemed laboured. His voice didn't waver. "I'm... It hurts. It hurts like hell, but... Thank you for telling me."  
"I don't want to be anything but honest with you, Alexander. I know it's hard, and it probably won't stop hurting any time soon, but... It's real. What you're feeling, it's real."  
   Alexander nodded and John felt light. It was only the start but he was there, Alex was there with him and he was opening up to the truth. It would be a tricky road to get him to feel confident again, but John would be there every step of the way.  
"How... You always seemed so... Happy, to me, so full of life. You've known this all along... Been keeping this secret... How do you do it?"  
   John smiled a little to himself.  
"I'm free, Alexander. Even when everything around me tries to limit me and my feelings, tries to refute my very soul, every day I make the choice to wiggle out of this box they would put me in. Every day I get to stay true to myself, even if I can't show it, even if it's just on the inside. If that's not a good enough reason to be happy, then I don't know what is."

    Alexander smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week I read [this article](https://www.buzzfeed.com/hayesbrown/the-chechen-government-is-reportedly-kidnapping-and?utm_term=.ha7KoqAq9#.slWv4xGxY) that felt awful and surprisingly close to some of the things I imagined in this story (though, sadly, not as surprising as I wish it would be in this day and age). Many ideas I used for this AU actually stemmed from things that happened in my country during a dictatorship years ago, which kidnapped, tortured and killed anyone who dissented, and then denied their very existence by hiding their bodies. To this day there's still people vocally denying these things ever happened and even claiming we were better off then.
> 
> Basically, there's a lot of shit that goes on in the world and we're leaning slowly. Love yourselves, be safe but bold. Even if all you can change is your own mind, you've changed the world already.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading <3


	14. The Rearranging, pt 1

_“You gave me the chance to choose who to be. You told me that I could learn, and change. You told me there was no shame in not knowing. You changed me. You opened up the world to me. I don’t know how to live now that it’s closed again. The truth is, I always needed you more than I cared to admit. And I wish you were here right now to tell me off for saying that.”  
_ _-Hamilton’s journal, December 1st, 2142._

     It was like seeing the world for the first time.  
     Everything was the same, but Alexander wasn't. His mind wasn't. It wasn't something he could explain really, but as soon as he admitted it to himself, that he couldn't disprove it, things began to make sense. His brain began to rearrange itself, new facts merging with old facts and a whole new picture emerging. The most important part of it all, perhaps, was that it was unfinished.

"The first thing you need to know, is that there's no way to know anything for certain."  
"Well, that's encouraging."  
     Their first afternoon session had set the stage. Alexander's old world had been defined by the things he knew. He knew he had a soulmate, he knew he would meet her, he knew they would get together, start a family, and be happy. The prospect of his life was perfectly mapped out, and the only thing he needed to do was fill in the blanks: where they would meet, what she would look like, what they would name their children.  
"I never said this was going to be fun, Alexander." John was smirking at him. The day before, he couldn't have imagined anything but a grim, serious tone to discuss this. "But there's a chance you'll take a liking to it. You enjoy learning, right?” He shoot a rueful look at Alexander’s desk, cluttered with papers and books. In a moment, they were laughing. Laughing.  
    After their confrontation Tuesday night, John had decreed Wednesday they’d have a relaxing day, and they’d begin talking about it on Thursday. He needed it, of course, but Alex was still quite anxious most of Wednesday with the new baggage he’d acquired. John seemed as light as ever; he made popcorn and chose a dumb movie to watch, making comments on the crappy production more often than not. It had been a fairly normal day, but life had become anything but normal now.

    He walked the hallways uncertainly. He didn’t want to say anything, but he was scared of interacting with the world now. A world which was suddenly filled with holes and plaster; a world which had always been that way. But he could see it now. His mind was working faster than ever before trying to process everything. The buildings, the people, the signs. Everything seemed to be a part of this grand scheme no one was aware of. It sounded crazy, it sounded paranoid and utterly insane. He pictured John locked up, at an asylum somewhere, cut off from the world. He shook his head and kept walking.  
    It wasn’t easy, but he managed to focus on his classes and leave everything else in a corner of his mind. Or, more accurately, he was able to lock himself in that corner; a small space that still fit in a box, that was itself a box, where he could pay no mind to the whole new place his mind had become. A reflection of Alex’s new world: somewhere yet to be designed. Unfinished. Dynamic.

“I just don’t know how to look at people now. Just when I was walking over, I went by this couple, holding hands, looking incredibly adorable, besotted with each other, smiling and happy. And all I could think about is that they were… empty. Like they’re not real, like what they have isn’t real and they’re too blind to see it.”  
“You’re quite drastic for a man who belonged with them four days ago.”  
“I know, I know. I’m not being fair, it’s just… How do you look people in the eye, John? How do you not scream the truth at everyone?"  
“Look, I told you before,” John switched to his serious tone of voice. “that the thing _I_ cherish the most about all this is that I’m free. Well, freedom is not all sunshine and rainbows, you know? If you wanted that, there’s your old life. It’s safe and certain. You won’t be free, but you’ll probably be happy. You can see why that’s so attractive, right? If you ask most people what they want out of life, they’ll say happiness. Now, that is true today and it was also true Before.” Alex had learned that was the word John used for the world that predated the Final War and the New Nation. “People will do anything if they think it’ll lead them to be happy. Even sacrifice themselves. I think that’s why the Soulmate thing must have taken off in the first place. People want happiness, and they like to believe happiness is a constant, that you get there and that’s it. Boom. You’re happy for the rest of your life. Sounds fucking fantastic, if you ask me. Now, mix that in with the shitty situation that the Final War left the world in, and you’ve got a community that’s desperate for anything that will bring them a sense of comfort. The Soulmate System is a constant, it’s a way to believe that life makes sense, even when awful things happen. If you take everything else away and think about that, how can you blame them?"

     It was a lot like seeing John for the first time, too. Every afternoon, they sat together on Alex’s bed. John would tell him a little bit of what he knew, how he had come into that information, how much of a leap of faith it was to believe it. Alexander would ask questions, and they’d figure it out together. On Tuesday, John mentioned a weird theory about Unmarkeds being a genetical fluke that made them more prone to rebellious thoughts, and smiled widely when Alexander found arguments to discredit it.  
“See? You can already tell what makes sense and what doesn’t. You don’t even need me at all!” He joked.  
“Are you kidding? I’d be joining a false movement to ban sandwiches without you. What’s next?"

    Alexander had yet to find a new place in his mind for John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3  
> Sorry it's shorter and kind of choppy, this was a hard week and I'm amazed I was able to get anything out at all.
> 
> I'm kind of frustrated as hell lately so if you enjoy, please do leave a comment! It will make me so happy. :)


	15. The Rearranging, pt 2

     John had never really pictured himself working as anything in particular. With all he knew, it was hard to look too far ahead into the future, so he tried to focus on living day to day. Then he started teaching Hercules. With Lafayette, it had been easy; he'd been in contact with the truth for a good while, so when they found each other they'd pooled together what they knew and worked to find the missing pieces that linked it all together. Hercules was different.

  _Lafayette was late. John had been waiting for him for almost an hour at his apartment. He was starting to get worried, what if something had happened to him on the way? He pictured his backpack, his notebooks full of truths the Council would want buried. What would they do to his friend if they found them? He took a deep breath and looked out the window to see... Lafayette walking hurriedly on the sidewalk, next to a large man with a young boy in his arms. It was barely two minutes before they were entering John's apartment.  
_ _"I'm so sorry John, we didn't know where else to go. Do you have an ice pack?"  
_ _John prided himself in what he called his Action Mode; when a matter needed urgent doing, he was able to put all other thoughts to the side and focus on the task. The job right now seemed to be helping the bruised kid that the strange man was now laying on his couch. He passed him the ice pack silently.  
_ _"This is Hercules, and his brother Henry. I think he was attacked..."  
_ _"I know he was." Hercules said, firm and dark. "It's happened before, just not... Not like this."  
_ _Hercules lifted his brother's shirt to check for injuries and, sure enough, there were bruises all over his chest. The kid had been brutally beaten; it was painful to watch, and John could feel rage pooling in his stomach.  
_ _"Who did this?!"  
_ _"Woah, calm down, dude." Hercules spoke calmly, a weird counterpoint to John's angry tone. He sighed. "No one's more pissed off at this than me, trust me. But revenge won't help. It's his classmates... They've been bullying him all year, ever since..." He looked up at John and Lafayette with doubt in his eyes. "Ever since he was revealed as an Unmarked."  
_ _He'd been wary to trust them, with good enough reason considering Henry's state. But the first thing out of John's mouth at that had been a mix of curse words aimed at the Council and a few cries for revolution. Hercules had been shocked, but soon he was smiling at his new friends._

     All Hercules had known was that his brother being mistreated was unfair, and it was enough to involve him with the truth. John had taken it upon himself to teach the older man all he knew, starting from scratch for the first time. It wasn't easy, taking someone's beliefs and turning them around, but Hercules was a dedicated student. He was fueled by love for his brother and an inherent goodness that John had rarely ever seen in the world. And John discovered he enjoyed the process a lot. Hercules asked a lot of questions and poked at every theory, and in teaching him, John was learning himself. Together, with Lafayette, they had strengthened their knowledge in ways he couldn't have imagined.

     Teaching Alexander was completely different, but just as rewarding. Where Hercules was curious, Alexander was defiant. He expected from fringe theorists the same rigorosity that trained historians boasted.  
"If we're to change the world, we need to be thorough, John. I won't exchange one lie for another."  
"That's a very good point, Alexander. But we're a work in progress. There's things we're sure of, things we suspect, things we doubt. Bulletproof certainty? That's not something that abounds these days. The important thing is that we're not setting anything in stone, we're always open to new evidence. If that refutes what we used to believe, so be it. Though we do have _some_ pretty reliable sources..."  
     John had showed him the book that day. The first one, the one that changed his life. And Alexander had understood. As he touched the pages with care, his eyes lifted and met John's with an intensity he was still struggling to get used to. He was struggling to get used to most things that had changed about Alexander.

     He had always found Alexander's mind entrancing. It was this refreshing bluntness of his, this willingness to think about life beyond the limits of a soulmate relationship; John knew it was his mind he had fallen for. Even with every constraint he'd been under, he'd been able to fly further than John could have imagined. He'd found in Alexander a kindred spirit, unafraid to ask himself questions about who he was and who he wanted to be. And now he was free. Now he was a part of John's real world, _the_ real world. And the questions he was asking were more challenging every time.  
     John couldn't imagine a passive kind of love, a conformist kind of love. In his care for his friends, John was always bold and pushing; he only knew love as a driving force, a way to lift himself and others to places they couldn't reach before. It was passionate and intense, and quite the opposite of what would be deemed a successful Soulmate relationship. John loved with fire and every new afternoon of truth with Alexander fanned that flame further.

     John knew he could never be the kind of teacher he'd want to be. The conduit for people to question the world and attempt to truly understand it. So he enjoyed these moments when he could see Alexander's eyes light up as his world broadened, and figured that maybe just touching a handful of souls could be enough.   
     He knew he could never share the kind of passionate love he felt, so he contented himself with the incredible ability of being able to feel it himself. Even if he could never say it out loud, even if he could never act on it. His heart pumped, his eyes shone; he loved Alexander, and he was alive with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not having a very positive/happy week(s) so this has been quite hard to write. I actually wrote a chapter I'm pretty content with for a future, angsty part of this story that we're not yet at. Whoops. So yeah, this chapter and the last were especially hard to write, also because they don't really follow an internal timeline per se, they're more scattered thoughts of their first week of this new dynamic. Next chapter will be back on track with the normal(?) kind of storytelling, which will hopefully prevent me from getting too stuck. So yeah, sorry this is kind of short and meh.
> 
> Thanks for being here! <3  
> Please let me know if you like this, your comments make me smile :)


	16. The Clearing

 

 

_"Even before I knew the truth, the City was already affecting the way I saw the world. It was giving me relationships I couldn't place within a pre-assigned box, a concept of friendship that escaped the confines of childhood and the banality of simple play. What a cruel thing, to take such a wonderful thing away from us. The value of someone choosing to stick by your side in good and bad times without any romantic notions. I don't know where I'd be without someone like that in my life."  
_ _-Hamilton's journal, June 18th, 2142._

     It had been about two weeks since he'd opened his eyes. Two weeks of a new chapter in his life. But there was still something from before that stung at the back of his head, constantly. In between all the inner commotion John had caused, nothing had dimmed the guilt and the shame of how he had acted with Eliza. She'd been absent from their first shared class since the incident, and had ducked out so quickly on the second that he hadn't been able to find a moment to approach her.

**11:21  
Alexander Hamilton:**  
I know you probably don't want to see me again, but I'd love nothing more than to be able to talk to you and apologise properly for what happened. You were the first one to clue me in on how naïve I was, and I've since realised that was just the tip of the iceberg. I'll be studying at the café this afternoon, if you've got the time and are willing, I'd like to buy you a coffee and talk a bit.

**11:21  
Alexander Hamilton:**  
You can yell at me, too.

     She hadn't replied, but he was there. It would have been good to take the chance to actually study, since his afternoons learning with John had meant time taken from his classes' material, but his eyes kept darting from his notes back to the door every time the bells chimed. He supposed he shouldn't expect Eliza to come, but on the seventh bell chime, the seventh lift of his eyes towards the door, she was there.

     And suddenly everything was real. As Alexander set his eyes on this girl, this woman who could have been his soulmate, the reality of his life dawned on him. The knowledge that he was born in a place that made him an instant outcast, and had grown up trying to fit into a system that kept pushing him out even if he didn't realise it. The knowledge that she had been going through that, knowingly, for half her life. His fists tightened on their own accord. He wanted to fight for her. To scream in the faces of everyone who dared claim she was not worth loving. She smiled, a small thing, as she sat in front of him.

"You look upset, Alex. Are you alright?"  
"Damn, Eliza." He let out a shy chuckle. "You're amazing, did you know that? I don't know how you find it in you to be so kind."  
"Why wouldn't I be?"  
"Because. The world is fucked up. It's telling you... it's casting you out and that can't be right." Alex did always have a hard time beating around what he wanted to say. And seeing her there, he couldn't help all the feelings inside of him. The need to hold her, to protect her; to curse at the world for daring to look down on her.  
     Eliza smiled and drank her coffee. Alexander idly registered the fact that he'd promised to buy it for her.   
"You sound just like my sister. Always ready to fight the world on my behalf."  
"Well... yeah!" He remembered Angelica's words to him and knew he'd join her in a heartbeat in any effort to protect Eliza.  
"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you, Alexander. I know you didn't mean any harm with... what happened. But it was painful for me. You have to understand that."  
"I do. I mean, no. I don't. I can't even imagine what you've gone through, Eliza. I'm so sorry I was another jerk making you feel like shit."  
     Eliza was silent for a while. A small frown had landed on her brow as she stared at her cup.  
"Is that why you texted me? To apologise?"  
     Alex tried to read her tone. She seemed upset, vulnerable. She deserved a lifetime of apologies and he was more than willing to spend the time trying to make amends for his behaviour. But it wasn't all he wanted with her. He wanted to know her, to spend time with her and...  
"I know we don't know each other well, but you've been lovely to me for no other reason than your own kindness. If I'm being honest, the idea that you could be my soulmate was enticing because of who you are, and that's what got me so carried away. I saw us as a great match. I believed we could be good together, that we could lift each other and help each other be happy. And..." Alex paused for a moment, trying to find the words to explain his feelings. "I still believe it. I see no reason why we can't be that person for each other."  
     He reached his hand out to lay on top of hers. She still didn't look up at him, but she didn't move away either.  
"Alex, I..."

     It felt nice. A hand on hers. Passionate, deep eyes focused on her. A strong, convincing voice that wanted to be with her. And for a moment, Eliza let herself imagine. Turning her hand and lacing their fingers; mirroring smiles. Leaving the café holding hands. Kissing on the street corner. Texting the night through. The ever-present fear of the real Elizabeth arriving. The guilt of keeping him grounded. The discomfort of trying to fit in a spot that wasn't truly hers. The pain of letting him go. The heartbreak of never actually having his love, not for real.  
     She'd felt fear when he started apologising. She'd heard it a thousand times before. _I'm sorry I hurt you; see you never._ She hated it. She was kind and forgiving, but her status made everyone instantly flock away from her despite her own nature. She didn't want Alexander to leave, but she couldn't have him stay like that either.  
     She took a deep breath and refused to let tears form in her eyes. 

"You're very sweet, Alex. But I... I've long ago accepted that I wasn't meant to have a romantic relationship." Alexander winced slightly at how she said _meant_ , but he knew he couldn't argue. "And I'm okay with that. I have my sisters and my father; I am loved, and I love them so much. You see, it's... It's not easy, for people like me, to bond with others. People say they care, and they probably do, but the truth is... As soon as their Soulmate shows up, they'll be gone. I mean, I can't say I wouldn't be the same way if the tables were turned, to be honest. I get it; I don't hold a grudge about that, but at the same time... There comes a point where you have to protect yourself, is all. I don't make friends, I don't..." She chuckled, a small thing. "I don't ask random classmates out for coffee."  
     Alexander tightened his grip on her hand slightly, smiling a bit at her. He was sure the sadness in his eyes came through though.  
"Look, Alex. I like you, I do. I think you're smart and interesting and funny; and to be fair, I do find you attractive. But... I'll never like you like _that_ , I just... Can't. It's not a part of me."  
"I... Shit. Okay. I keep trying to make things right with you and... Failing spectacularly. I'm sorry, Eliza, I really am. Of course I understand, you're..." He smiled a little at his words. "You're free to choose how to live your life. I just really think you're awesome, and... I don't know. Maybe I'm a bit lonely."  
"You're lonely? What about John?" She smiled sweetly. Her hand back on her cup and a wave of tension immediately lifting from between them. Romance was off the table and everything felt easier all of a sudden.  
"You know John?"  
"Not really. We used to run in the same circles back home; Angie talks to him though. He's always seemed nice and she mentioned you guys were roommates."  
"Yeah, we're..." Alex struggled to find an accurate word. A few weeks ago he wouldn't have doubted to call him his friend, as new as that whole concept was to him. They were companions through their every day lives and shared glimpses of each other's minds on their walks through the city. But then they argued, and then they made up, and then...  Alex didn't feel comfortable assigning their relationship the same word he would have used before. Because they weren't just friends anymore, were they? What do you call someone who opened your eyes and broadened your world a thousand fold? What do you call the person who opens their mind to you and lets you wander, ask questions, poke at everything you can find? How can you describe the bond you share when you've both stripped of everything that masked you and laid there, bare, in front of each other. Alexander didn't know everything there was to know about John, he didn't know of his childhood, of his parents, of his home. He didn't know what he wanted to work as or if he ever played any sports. But he knew his mind, he knew his soul, and Alex couldn't imagine a stronger link to another human. "He's great, I'm lucky to have met him."

-

"I can understand it in like the early years, when there were two dozen folks trying to stop the human race from dying." Lafayette swung his glass, the liquid dangerously nearing the edge. "But it's been a hundred years, there's loads of us already, get the fuck over it!" A good third of his pint was now staining the table, but no one seemed to care.  
"You just said it though, Laf. It's been a hundred years!" Angelica was keeping up with him, discussion and drink-wise. "Let me ask you something, now hear me out." She looked at the three of them in the eye for a second to ensure they were paying attention. "What is the thing people are most afraid of?"  
"Death!" Hercules banged his hand against the table.  
"Loneliness." John was dangerously close to a depressed-drunk state.  
"I've no idea!" Lafayette laughed.  
"You guys are idiots! _Change_! People are terrified of change, always have been. So yeah, it may not have the same rational justification as it once did, but the Soulmate system is all people know. And I'm sure if you asked them, most folks would rather remain in a system they know is rigged rather than risk freedom. People are cowards." She punctuated her sentence by chugging what was left of her beer. "We have more booze, right?"  
     John stood up, nodding silently, and staggered to the kitchen. For whatever reason, Lafayette had decided to host a slumber party and had gone all out in an effort to get them hammered. Their sleeping bags probably wouldn't be used until the sun was up.  
     As he opened the door to the fridge and looked inside, trying to remember what exactly he was looking for, he felt a pang of guilt. It had been weeks since Alex had become aware and he had failed to either mention that fact to his friends, or tell Alexander that he was actually part of a larger group. He could have been there with them, laughing and yelling out half-assed drunken theories. He was trying to get in touch with Eliza, though, and John knew how important that conversation would be, for both of them.  
"Gonna break my fridge door leaning like that, dear. What are you looking for?"  
"...I don't remember."  
They broke into laughter together. Lafayette stretched beside him to grab another bottle of beer and they went back into the living room, where Hercules and Angelica were once again debating loudly.

"I don't give a damn about preservation of the species, Angelica! If we were meant to die off, that's what we should have done. Not fucking engineer tattoos that will tell us who to love, it's fucking sick, is what it is."  
"I'm agreeing with you, you idiot! I just said that if it was babies they wanted they could have just started screwing around unchecked and leave it at that."  
"It was never just about children, though!" John cut in, letting the heat of the argument nudge his passion and leave the melancholy behind. "I mean yeah, it's a positive side effect when you're on the brink of extinction, but since when are we as humans a pragmatic species? It was, and still is, about control. About a few angry dudes feeling big and mighty by telling other people what they can and cannot do."  
"And by putting themselves in the position of almighty gods, making their rules into a plan of the Universe ingrained in your genetic structure. Don't ever underestimate the power of the human ego!" Lafayette paused to fix his attention on a weird spot on the ceiling as he drank straight from the bottle.

"Okay, okay, okay." It was a few hours later when John shushed a conversation he wasn't paying attention to, deciding it was a good time to say something. "I gotta come clean, guys. I did a thing."  
"I'm guessing a stupid thing?" Angelica raised an eyebrow. As drunk as she was, she was still able to maintain a certain level of poise any other woman would envy.  
"Well..."  
"Oh please, of course it was stupid. Just spill it, John." Hercules patted his back a little too strongly. Maybe this level of alcohol wasn't ideal for the news he was about to deliver.  
"I kind of... Well, not kind of, literally, definitely. I um... Told him."  
     There was silence for a few seconds, as John's drunk mind was sure he had explained himself perfectly well.  
"Told who what?"  
"Alexander Hamilton." This seemed particularly funny as it set John off with a wave of giggles that Lafayette was soon imitating with no apparent reason.  
"Wait, wait." He tried to catch his breath. "What happened with Alex, dear?"  
"Um... you know, he was angry at me, and then he wasn't. And then I ran my mouth off and he got mad again? It's confusing. But I told him. And he's awesome. So awesome."  
"Can someone translate? This is starting to piss me off." Angelica said.  
"Woah, hold up. Am I getting this straight? John? Did you tell Alex the truth about Soulmates?" Lafayette gasped at Hercules' words. They all looked at John with a disbelieving glance.  
"Yeah, I. Look, I'm sorry. Sort of. It kind of slipped out at first, but then also... I've wanted to tell him for a while, you know?" He tried in vain not to have his voice sound like a whine. "He's too smart not to know. And I was looking at him and he was trying to understand what I meant when I said I liked men, and it just... I don't know, it seemed easier to just rip the whole band aid off at once. He stormed out though, I was pretty sure that'd be the end of me for a moment. But then..." He sighed, the memory slightly sobering. "Then he came back. And we talked, and... I've been teaching him. He's actually helped me piece together a few of the things I brought last week! Not that he knows about you, I haven't told him, but we were talking and he asked a couple of questions that were very good points and it helped me realise a few things. His mind..." John smiled and let out a sigh. "His mind works at this insane level, you know? Like, he can keep up with me no problem even though he's only known this shit for a few days. It's unbelievable."  
"Damn, John, your crush is making you weak!" Angelica teased, and everyone laughed.  
     It suddenly dawned on John, the reality of what he was confessing to. He'd kept it a secret for a while and he was well aware of what he was doing. He might convince himself he was protecting his friends, keeping Alexander away until he was sure he could be trusted, but it wasn't the whole truth. He was being selfish, for once. He cherished his relationship with him, and now the truth had granted them a tangible, special bond that was just between the two of them. He'd wanted to keep it for a little bit, just to himself. But he knew how valuable Alexander's insights were and that he'd be a great asset to the team, should he be interested. And should his friends accept him.  
     Should they forgive John.

"Look, I know I took a risk, and I know I was an idiot and it could have backfired horribly. But, you know? It felt right. He needed to know, the world needed him to know. And I... I honestly can't bring myself to regret any of it, I just... I'm tired. I'm tired of overthinking what I can say and think, what to do and who to be. Who the fuck cares if I'm not normal? Whoever gave them the right to decide what even _is_ normal? I'm a freak and I'm damn proud of it. If it gets me killed, then so fucking be it. At least I'd die a free man."  
"You'd still die a virgin though." Hercules deadpanned. There was only a moment of silence before they all erupted in roaring laughter.  
"John, dear. You're an idiot, but we love you. I'd chastise you about spilling the truth out to random people but any other time you'd be the most careful person I know with this stuff. I think we all know this was a... special case." John looked down, focusing on his beer bottle label.  
He hadn't talked to anyone other than Lafayette about liking Alexander but it wasn't surprising to know they'd realised it anyway.  
"It's fine, John." Angelica placed a comforting hand on his knee. "But if he takes my spot on the couch, he's dead."   
     John smiled as he watched his friends laugh. However senseless it was, they understood. And it was that simple thing that made John's heart swell and believe that things were going to work out in the end. His friends were idiots, and they were going to change the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading! <3  
> Let me know what you think.


	17. The Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit longer!  
> I'm not thrilled with how this turned out, but life's been a crazy ride lately so I'm glad to have been able to write this.

     Eliza had become a source of comfort beyond what he could have expected. Ever since their confrontation the previous week, they'd been texting frequently. Alexander understood, of course he understood everything she'd said, but it still hurt a bit and he didn't think he was ready to see her face every other day. But texting was easier. She was as warm and kind through written words, and he felt better knowing they could be friends like that, at least for now.

 

     He had talked to John about her; it had embarrassed him, but he'd swallowed his pride and admitted his hopes for a relationship with her, even beyond the grasp of soulmateship.

 

_"I think" Alex said, hesitant. "I think I might not have yet been able to... internalise what you taught me. I mean, I know she's not meant to be with me, that no one really is, but I still... I still want that. I still see her and think of how she'd fit in terms of a romantic relationship with me. And I know, I know in my rational mind that it's fucked up and wrong to think of her like that. But at the same time..."_

     _John sat down next to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder._

 

     If he focused enough, he could evoke the weight of that hand on the muscles on his back, the relaxing wave it triggered on his body. He let out a deep breath.

_"Alexander, listen to me. You've only known about this for two weeks, you've lived within the system for your whole life. You've... You're learning so fast and with an amazing ease, Alexander. Your mind, your mind is something wonderful and you're very good at... Adapting. Be patient with yourself."_

      _They sat there for a moment._

_"I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to babysit me like this."_

_"What? Alexander, this isn't... It's completely understandable for you to struggle with all of this. I was a complete wreck when I went through this myself."_

_"You were?"_

 

     It was hard to imagine him like that. John, always calm and collected, confident and thoughtful. Alex had always marvelled at his ability to stay cool even when discussing unsettling things. Even before, when they'd ponder the very meaning of their lives, every matter that made Alexander shudder and wonder why he couldn't just be at peace. They shared a certain passion, but where Alexander's burst through his pores, John carried his with silent grace, as if harvesting it and choosing the exact moment, the exact way to use it best.

     But then again, they had known each other for just a few months. He didn't know what John was like in January any more than he knew what he was like as a toddler. He always seemed to forget that. There was this other John, the one that lived with his family, the one that dodged suitors and locked himself with his books. The one that thought he was alone. There was the Other John, the John from before college, from before Alexander, and This John. His John.

 

_"Yeah, I wasn't the most level-headed teenager, if you can imagine." He chuckled. "But it sucked because I was alone. In fact, I should tell you..." He took a deep breath and stayed silent. For a while, it seemed as though he wasn't going to say anything. "Even if I believe everyone's entitled to the truth, I... wasn't being completely selfless when I told you. The truth is, I've wanted to share this with you for as long as I've known you. You're brilliant, Alexander. Not just in how you can process information, anyone can be like that, but you... You're not afraid to doubt yourself. I saw that in our first walk through town together, and that's so..." John hadn't moved his hand from Alexander's shoulder, but his gaze was far away now, his teeth softly biting his lower lip as he frowned at the wall, as if the words he needed to use were far away and he couldn't quite reach them. "We live in a world where people would rather be right than be fair. They'd rather cover their eyes than face their own lies. To meet you was... refreshing, incredibly refreshing, and I_ knew _... I knew you could understand. That you'd be with me on this."_

_John's hand left its spot on Alex's shoulder and he stood up, started moving random papers from his desk with a lopsided smile he only directed at Alexander for a second before turning away._

_"So yeah, you can question anything and everything in the world, but never doubt that I'm glad to have dragged you into this mess. Whatever that might say about me."_

 

 

**19:21**  
**Elizabeth Schuyler:  
** You'll be fine. Stop overthinking this. 

**19:21**  
**Alexander Hamilton:  
** I'm not overthinking! It's perfectly reasonable to be nervous. It's the first time they invite me over to their apartment.

 

**19:22**  
**Elizabeth Schuyler:  
** And you've hung out with them dozens of times. Relax, Alex, they won't bite. I promise.

 

     He wished he could explain to her the reasons why it was in fact perfectly logical to be anxious to go to Lafayette and Hercules' apartment. This wasn't their ordinary get together, drinks and laughter and fun, light times. John was taking him to meet the others who researched the truth with him.

 

     Alex used to think he'd be at the top of anything he embarked upon, but all that he'd been learning so far had humbled him in a way he hadn't thought possible. And now he was about to enter into a well-established group dynamic to which he was an outsider. He thought he and John had a nice rapport going when they debated over the facts and theories he was learning, but it could easily be John's teaching methods. He was an infant in terms of dealing with the truth, and he was about to enter high school and try to keep up. His back tensed.

 

_"It's only Laf and Herc. Well, and Angelica; she is kind of intimidating actually."_

_"Kind of?" John laughed at that._

_"But still, don't worry. You're with me. And they're cool with you, trust me."_

 

     John had smiled and elbowed Alex's side as he locked the door to their room. And Alex did trust John, so there he was, sitting on Lafayette's couch with a drink in his hand and trying to keep up with the conversation. It was hard to believe Angelica had only recently entered their group, she and Hercules exchanged banter and academic analysis without blinking, while Lafayette connected their arguments with his own input, more often than not making note of the fact that the two were actually in agreement. John sat back with a book open on his lap, alternating between reading, watching his friends with a fond look in his eye, and only every so often adding in a couple of facts or comments to the conversation.

     Alexander's brain was working as fast as ever, with no time to dwell on any new data what with the speed they jumped from topic to topic. It had been about a half an hour and his drink was empty and his eyes wide. John had retreated into the kitchen with Hercules, talking about getting dinner ready, so he was now sitting between Angelica and Lafayette as they discussed something Laf had read online.

"I'm telling you, he's reliable. I've known Nelson for months, and he's always steered me in the right direction. He wouldn't feed me fake data."

"I know you're a tech genius and whatever, Laf, but I have a hard time trusting people I can't see. You have no way of knowing who this Nelson is, or what his motives might be in sharing this intel with you."

"He's just helping the revolution!" Lafayette raised his hands, signalling around himself to his own living room. Angelica snorted.

"Then maybe you're the one duping him. Does he know he's just helping a group of theoretical rebels?"

"Theoretical?" Alexander opened his mouth for the first time.

 

-

 

     John chopped an onion with tears in his eyes. Hercules had given him a thousand tricks to avoid this effect, but he was never patient enough to add one small step to his cooking routine.

"You're just a stubborn little thing, eh?" He ruffled John's hair as he moved past him to preheat the oven.

     It was sort of their _thing_. When Hercules met him, John was living alone and subsisting out of boxed meals and self-hatred. Every time they met at his apartment, Herc would bring a few ingredients from his fridge with him and cook, making sure to leave a few containers of leftovers in John's fridge. Eventually, John had passed from being the curious kid sitting on the countertop, to helping him out, to calling him at random hours asking cooking questions. John started taking breaks to cook; breaks from schoolwork, breaks from research, breaks from thinking. The methodical steps of each recipe helped him focus his mind on something simpler, and rest. And Hercules was more than happy to pass his love for cooking on to John, he would always laugh at how his little brother would set things on fire as soon as stepping foot in a kitchen, but it was nice to have someone to share it with. 

     John's second complaint when he had to move to the dorms, after the obligation to share his space with a stranger, was the lack of an actual kitchen. So there he was, enjoying the calm in his mind as he mixed ingredients, when a new voice joined the banter in the living room. John smiled to himself a bit. He'd been worried about how Alexander would react with his group, and he'd been awfully quiet since they'd arrived, but he knew better than to force him. He knew he would talk when he was ready and he was glad that time had finally arrived. He looked at Herc with a playful look and they both neared the doorway to listen in on the conversation.

 

"Yeah" Angelica said. "I mean I'm not saying that what we're doing isn't important but, changing things? That's something else."

"John and I... He always talks about revolution within the mind." It was strange, listening to Alexander talk about him, and it brought up a certain uneasy feeling within John's chest. He bit his lip to stop himself from smiling and tried to tune back into the conversation. "-would you do it? How would _you_ change things, if you could?"

There was silence for a few moments, he could picture Angelica and Lafayette looking at each other, unsure of what to share with a newcomer.

"Well, my priority would be ensuring Unmarked rights. Stating that no one person is worth less than another due to a fluke of birth. Anti-discrimination laws, social research, incorporation into mainstream media..."

"But Angelica, in that process you might as well reveal that Soulmates aren't real! And that would-"

"Yeah, I mean, you can imagine a giant reveal where everybody finds out the truth and is shocked and amazed, and suddenly the world is all good. But it's not that easy."

"Trust me, dear, we've thought about it." Lafayette spoke in a soothing tone. "There's no predicting how the general public might react. Didn't you try to deny it at first, yourself? And it came from someone you trusted, and it was just you. Imagine those feelings on a large scale."

"Not to mention," Angelica picked up "that the Council is no toddler you're trying to trick. They're dangerous, Alex. Don't underestimate them."

     A wave of guilt washed over John. He always asked, he always gave everyone plenty of chances to back down. Alexander had been so eager to learn and discuss things he hadn't given him an out. He hadn't given him the choice to go back to his old life like nothing happened.

"Doesn't your father work for them?" Alex's voice interrupted his thoughts, and he noticed Hercules was opening the door and stepping out. He followed him. "I mean, maybe he can get us some intel and-"

"Alex, really. We've thought about it." Laf. "It's too dangerous."

"But isn't living like this dangerous enough? People are shunned from their communities, discriminated against. They're forcing themselves into relationships because society tells them they have to!"

"Alexander."

 

     Everyone was quiet and Alex turned his head to see John had emerged from the kitchen. He suddenly realised the position he was in and tilted his head down, embarrassed. John had brought him here, to his friends, to a safe space, because he trusted him. And he had opened his mouth and made things uncomfortable. Except this time it wasn't because of his origins, it wasn't because of his naiveté. He could feel a fire burning within him and for once, he felt in his heart that he was right. He might not be experienced enough with all of this, but his mind was clear on this: the way things were was not right. Couldn't they do something about it? Was that really just idealistic of him?

"Believe me," John was sitting next to him now, his eyes kind but strong. Alexander felt small. "no one wants to tear the council down more than I do. But to plan any kind of action we'd need an opening. An opportunity. We can't throw ourselves into the fray, we can't be reckless. Too many people have disappeared and no one's the wiser. We can't... We can't waste ourselves like that."

"Disappeared?"

The room went suddenly colder, as John took a deep breath and talked slowly.

"I'm sorry I haven't told you this before, I should have. I should have warned you and really explained how dangerous this is. The Council isn't only hiding the truth, it's systematically chasing down people who might know it. We've heard..." He looked at Lafayette. "Lafayette has a contact who seems trustworthy. They've confirmed other rumours we'd gathered. They take in anyone who's deemed a threat, with no justification needed."

"We believe there used to be a sort of organised group that wanted to expose the Council." Laf explained. "About twenty years ago. I've spoken to a lot of people in the past few years and there's always stories, something someone thinks they saw, something they overheard. From what I've been able to put together, there were quite a few instances of organised actions against the Council that were quickly shut down. Like a small fire at the Archives that was treated as an accident, but there's reports of people running and shouting around the building, and Officers chasing them. Or this one time." He chuckled slightly. "An Unmarked shelter was fully painted white overnight, after years of sporting dirty grey walls. It's believed it was to cover up some incriminating graffiti, someone I spoke to once said they volunteered at the shelter, and that someone had painted a whole political rant about Unmarked rights on the walls."

"The thing is," John took over with a frown before Lafayette went off on a tangent. "people have tried to go against the Council before, and every small action we've been able to hear about was quickly and efficiently shut down. And the people who did it... Most were never heard of again. No one knows what happened to them. They're presumed dead, but no bodies ever turned up. Like they never even existed in the first place. Like the whole resistance was just a scary dream."

"The last of those rumours date back to our childhoods, if there ever was an active resistance, it seems to have died down." Hercules' hands trembled a bit and he looked down as he spoke. "But there's still some disappearances. We suspect it's..." He looked at the back of John's head for a second, then focused on Alex's eyes. "People who've been consciously defying the soulmate system. Choosing partners they weren't assigned, living freely."

 

     Alexander was quiet as he processed this new information. He knew this was dangerous, of course he knew, but knowing exactly what was happening made it seem all the more real. And he knew he should be scared, he knew his instinct should be to shut himself in his room and never come back to Laf's place. But his head wouldn't shut up. It wouldn't stop reminding him of Eliza's hurt stare, of John's scarred wrist. Of all the people he might not even know were in pain, all around him. Of all those who resigned themselves to being miserable, unaware that they had a choice. Of what his life might have been like if he didn't know all that he now knew.

     Their revolution of the mind was wonderful, enlightening and inspiring. Alexander knew this firsthand as it had already changed him in ways he could never explain. But what difference did it really make if only a handful of people experienced it? He looked up, ready to challenge them, to spark them into action. And then he saw Angelica, sitting on the floor, hugging her knees. Her eyes were rid of her usual fierceness, and a deep concern had replaced it. Lafayette was biting his lip, staring at his hands and idly swinging on his chair. Hercules was standing, leaning against the wall with a stern look on his face. And John sat next to him, with a lost stare and pursed lips. These were the bravest, smartest people he'd ever met, and they were all scared. However rash Alexander might be, he knew enough to trust their experience. He was not wrong, but actual action wasn't something he could rush them into. They all had a choice, he reminded himself, and he wouldn't force his eagerness on them.

 

"I'm sorry, you're right. I just... I wish I could do _something_."

Everyone seemed to let out a held breath at his words. John smiled softly and placed a hand on top of his.

"You _are_ doing something, Alexander. This is not in vain." He stood up and went back into the kitchen without another word.

"Hey, worst case scenario, some lunatic fifty years from now might find all that we've written and it'll blow their minds." Hercules winked at him and followed John out.

     Lafayette started telling him about the exchanges he had with people online and how they shared their research. It took Alex a moment to stop staring at the kitchen door and focus on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying a different formatting since it was brought up to me last chapter that a bit more spacing might help with the reading. Let me know if this is better! Or if there's anything else that I might improve, do tell. :)
> 
> Also I'm taking the chance to say, I've been having a crappy few weeks and am starting to feel better and honestly this silly fic has been a much needed safe space when things felt a bit too much. I love writing it and I'm glad I decided to start it (and post it!) despite knowing I'd be pressed for time. I'm also happy there's a few people out there who enjoy it so yay! <3


	18. The Break

  _"It's true we have a choice now, but I don't think you can ever truly choose to love someone. You can choose to be in a relationship, you can choose to dedicate yourself to another person; you can choose to end things. But there's something that happens deep within you that you can't really control. When someone makes you feel, they just do. And it defies logic and rationality; it will probably be confusing and inconvenient. But all you can do is choose what to do about those feelings."  
_ _-Hamilton's journal, August 4th, 2150_

Alexander had always been driven; at least ever since John knew him, he always had some sort of project, essay, research keeping him busy. He took his studies very seriously and committed himself to his endeavours. This, however, this was a whole other level.

     It had been a month since Alexander's realisation and he was juggling his school work with as much research as the hours in a day allowed him, and then some. He was sleeping less, eating worse, and his hair was an indescribable mess. John recognised the new bags under his eyes because he'd caused those on himself too, once. He understood. He hadn't been the most dedicated student in high school, but when he found out about Soulmates, everything he could work on suddenly had meaning, a purpose. It was a strong driving force, and it had led to countless sleepless nights and obsessive behaviours. But eventually, his family noticed his state and, in order to keep his secret, he had to dial down. He found healthier ways to devote himself to his research without cutting everything else from his life. Alexander didn't have that concern, most of the people he knew in Nation City were aware of the truth, and his family was far away.

     But John worried.

 

"Hey."

     Alexander's gaze was fixed on his notebook, only briefly leaving the page to consult something on the loose pages around him.

"Alexander."

     His pen moved quickly, writing, underlining, scratching things out and correcting them without pause.

"Can you hear me?"

     He had to do this. He had to work and write and research and make sure he left _something_ behind, anything that might help.

"Man, you're scaring me. Alex?"

     He could only wish that his writing will have meaning, however long into the future. That someone might find power and reassurance in his words. He dared hope someone might turn them into action.

"Alexander!"

     He was snapped out of his daze by John's hands, firmly pressing on his shoulders. He lifted his head to see the blurry shape of his roommate, his eyes taking a few seconds to adjust and find their focus in John's.

"There you are." His worried look melted into a soft smile. "I was afraid you'd finally been replaced with Cyborg-Alex, man."

"Nah, still human old me. Sorry, had you been calling on me long?"

"Don't worry about it."

     John started grabbing every paper around him and making a pile. A messy pile. A pile that disregarded Alex's meticulously calculated chaos.

"Woah, what are you doing?!"

"Getting you to stop."

"John!"

"I'll make a worse mess if you complain! You need to take a break, Alexander. You've been at this non-stop."

"But..." Alexander looked helplessly around him. "We have to... I have to... It's important." The fatigue was finally getting to him now. John was probably right, but how could he stop when he finally had a purpose? When his work actually _meant_ something?

     John seemed to sense his inner turmoil; he sat next to him on his bed and smiled.

"Alexander, you're no good to anyone passed out from exhaustion. I know your work is important, but you can't stop living because of it. You should get some sleep."

 

     John helped Alexander get under the covers and moved to his own bed to do some reading himself. He hated seeing him like this, but he knew it would take time for him to get used to this and not work himself to death. And John would be there, he'd shake him out of his daze however many times he needed to, he'd force him to eat, he'd swaddle him in his blankets. He'd help Alexander find his balance, it was the least he could do for him.

"Joooohhhnnnnn." A mumbling, annoying voice called to him from the other bed twenty minutes later.

"What is it?"

"I can't sleep." The mess of blankets moved and Alexander's head popped out of the top, looking at John with wide, bloodshot eyes.

"Alexander, I can see your face. You can't even hide how exhausted you are."

"I know!" He sat up and John chuckled at the mess his hair was now, sticking out on all sides and plastered to the side of his face. "You'd think I'd be sleeping by now, right? But I'm not. I can't. My..." He sighed. "My mind won't stop."

     John took a better look at him. He look tired, yes, but not just physically. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but at the end of the day he was still just a 20-year-old man trying to live his life.

"Come on." John stood up and threw a sweater at him. "We're going for a walk, it'll help clear your mind."

Alex grumbled a bit but got up.

"You might have to carry me." He mumbled.

"Not a problem." John laughed.

 

-

 

The evening breeze woke Alexander up a bit, enough for his senses to respond properly. They walked aimlessly, as they always did. It seemed ages ago that they'd last done this, both consumed by their work as of late. They hadn't walked together since before Alexander found out the truth, since before John had opened that door in himself and allowed him in. It made him slightly anxious. They were vulnerable, in their walks; they shared themselves without many boundaries, and the last one of John's had faded in the last month. He wondered what it'd feel like now, to be bare and open in their own special safe place. It scared him to find out, but a thrill of exhilaration ran through his veins still.

     They grabbed some teas from the bodega ("No, Alexander, you can't have coffee, you're trying to relax.") and made their way to the riverside. John was letting his feet guide him with the practised instinct taking him towards their usual bench, when he noticed Alexander make his way to the railing, leaning his arms on the edge and looking out at the river. He mirrored his position on his left side and sighed.

 

"I think I've said this before, but it all looks different now. I know it's only me that's changed but..."

"Good different?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think I could narrow it down to _good_ or _bad_ , it's... It's like everything's sort of... blurred. The edges are. Things seem less defined, less... Static." John listened in silence. "It feels as if at any moment, things could change shape. The river might turn into a lake, or a sea." He turned around. "These buildings, they... they might become the barn at the old Tallmadge farm, back home. As if everything that's different was actually made of the same." He paused as he stared at the skyscrapers that lifted themselves a few metres ahead. "I don't know if it's a good or a bad thing, but it makes me feel comforted, in a way. Like the world is smaller and bigger at the same time, like I can discover new things while surrounded by comfort."

"It makes you smile." Alexander turned towards John, his face now turning to a confused frown. "Whatever it is, I mean. You were smiling just now, I..." John looked back out at the river as he stumbled over his own words. "If it makes you smile, it can't be such a bad thing, I guess."

     Alexander broke into another kind of smile now, and let out a small laugh.

"I guess not."

They stood quietly for a bit, listening to the cool breeze and the sounds of the water. Alexander was quite right, John thought, it felt like the same even though everything was different. It felt, perhaps, like the night to ask new questions.

"The Tallmadge farm?" Alexander had barely ever talked about Valley Forge, and now that everything was out in the open, John dared to show his curiosity about the Outsider Community.

"Oh, yeah. It's, well... It's a farm." Alex chuckled. "It's the biggest piece of land at Valley Forge, I think. One of the first constructions, the Tallmadge family was one of the first ones there, probably, but I don't think I ever heard their story. They might have started the Community, now that I think about it..."

"What's it like? Living there." John had often fantasised about it, the legend of the Outsider Communities. People in Nation City often told tales of uncivilised folk who lived in squalor, but the idea of a people who chose to get away from the city had always intrigued John. Soon enough, he'd learned that most of what he knew of them was pure myth, and an image began to form in his head. It wasn't clear, it was by all means as blurry as the buildings Alexander had just described; dynamic. But it always meant the same thing: hope. The hope that a different life might be possible.

"I haven't ever thought that much about it, to be honest. It was all I knew up until a few months ago. I don't..." He looked down with a small frown. Guilty. "Hercules mentioned something once. Rebels, free-willers living there. I don't... People are different than here, that much I can tell, but... It's not something I can quite put my finger on. It's just a general feeling. I wasn't part of any outlaw community, if that's what you're asking. I'm sorry."

 

     And that was the thing, wasn't it? Alexander had lived all his life in a place that, by all intents and purposes, escaped most of the Council's vigilance, yet he had nothing to show for it. He'd learned the truth in a college dorm room in the middle of Nation City. Had he just been blind to everything that was going on around him growing up? Or was it all just a myth, and they really were just simple farmers trying to get away from the noise? Alex wasn't sure which one of those options scared him the most.

     John placed one of his hands on his forearm, and Alex dared look back towards him. He had a soft expression on his face, and Alex almost wished he would get mad, disappointed at him.

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant... I've never even seen a farm, you know?"

Alex frowned a bit and wished John would never stop surprising him.

"Well, there's really not that much to it. I was never too fond of the animals there; at least not since a chicken pecked at my knee a bit too hard when I was a kid. I think I still have a scar!" John laughed. It wasn't a new kind of laugh but it was a rare one. It reminded him of Eliza a bit, the way he tilted his head backwards a bit and how his eyes crinkled. It was open, unapologetic. He loved seeing John like this.

"Well I'm glad you survived such a harrowing experience." He said, and then they were both laughing like that.

"Actually, there's a place. A water tower, on the edge of town. It hasn't been used in ages; now that I think about it, it's probably not very safe, but... I'd climb up there sometimes and look out. You can see all of Valley Forge from there. And beyond. It was my favourite place in the world. I would look out to they grey blurry thing that was Nation City, in the distance, and imagine the life that awaited me here. My studies, my soulmate." He let out a breath, a shaky thing that might have been a small laugh if it was allowed more space. "I really had no idea. I wish... I wish I had looked away more often. In another direction. I might have seen something else, I might have... I had a great vantage point but I had tunnel vision."

"Sounds like a nice place to sit and think."

"Yeah... I think I like this one better though."

"I don't know. You might have to take me to this water tower of yours so I can compare."

"Well, it was always kind of lonely there."

 

They smiled at each other.

John was always ready for everything to fall apart. He loved his friends, but he tried to prepare for the inevitable way in which they'd eventually grow apart. Things never lasted forever, not for him. And everything around him that did, every marriage and family that stayed together until the end, it was all muddled with the sense of duty and commitment the Council encouraged. Would they really last forever without that? With free will and a choice to live differently?

No, nothing lasted forever, not really.

But he wanted this to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to start with a quote about Alex trusting people and it turned into a quote about him loving John.
> 
> Lams... finds a way.


	19. The Drop

_"Maybe being a hero isn't about having nothing to lose. Maybe it's about risking everything to do better by the ones you care about. Is that what you thought? Did it make it easier for you? To sacrifice yourselves for me. Would I have felt differently, now, if I had known... If I could have predicted this deja vu of feelings? If I had known what I stood to lose, again?  
__Do you have any regrets?"_  
-Hamilton's journal, December 26th 2142.

 

It wasn't particularly difficult, but Alexander knew the neighbourhood well by now. Lafayette's apartment was only ten blocks away from their campus, and he passed streets he'd often walked with John on his way to the 24-hour coffee shop they favoured when researching late at night. He often wondered why they didn't use John's bodega, it was only a few extra blocks away, but he hadn't brought it up, for some reason. Maybe he liked to think of that place as pertaining only to the two of them. Maybe he was overthinking, as usual.

He was holding a cardboard tray with four coffees, already sipping on his own on his other hand, when he saw movement up ahead. He tilted his head slightly; it was rare to find others walking the streets at night. A few cars passed by every once in a while, but people seldom chose to walk themselves, especially at this hour. He squinted, a stray thought devoted to wondering where on Earth his glasses were, and made out a long-haired, slender figure... Climbing a fire escape?

A distant siren distracted him, and when he turned, the person was gone. By then he was at the end of the block, and in full view of the likely reason the mysterious figure was swift to get away. Delicate, curvy red letters marked the previously white front wall of the closed Engagement Ring store. Alexander swallowed his breath as he read the graffiti signed with an M:

_My arm is bare, my soul is free.  
_ _Who would you choose to be?_

He stared for a second, then he broke into a sly grin as he ran the rest of the way back.

 

-

 

It took only two seconds for him to read the mood of the room and let it fall, but John didn't miss the mischievous grin that Alexander donned as he entered the apartment. His eyes were full of wonder and he looked _alive_  with something new.

But this wasn't the time for joy and wonderment. Herc had left a few minutes before after getting the call. They didn't get many details but Henry was in the hospital. Unconscious, it seemed. John remembered a few times after their meeting when Henry had been beat up, but the most serious one was still that time Lafayette had found them. Never had he ended up hospitalised. This was new, and in this specific instance, new was bad. Very bad.

Lafayette was pacing, didn't stop when Alexander walked in and placed the coffees on the table. Angelica hadn't moved from her spot on the couch since hearing the news, and was staring out into space with a serious expression.

"Um, guys? What's going on? Where's Herc?"

Lafayette looked up, apparently only then noticing Alex's presence. His eyes were wide, swollen with the effort of not breaking down in tears.

"Oh, dear." He walked over to Alexander and hugged him tightly. "It's all a mess, what are we going to do?"

From over Lafayette's shoulder, he looked at John, a silent question. He didn't move from his spot, leaning against the wall and biting his finger.

"Herc's brother was attacked. He's in the hospital, we... We don't know much, but he's not well."

"Oh shit." Alex tightened his hold on Lafayette, who was freely crying now.

 

John could feel the whole group shifting on its axis. Henry had suffered before, Eliza had been mistreated, but the look on Hercules' face while on the phone echoed in all of their minds. It was serious this time, life-or-death serious. He remembered Alexander's words a few weeks ago.

 

_Angelica was asleep on the couch, Laf and Herc off on a coffee run. Alex shook his head and threw the papers he was reading across the floor. John recognised the report Lafayette had received from Nelson about a couple's disappearance a few months ago._

_"This is bullshit!" Alexander whisper-shouted. "How can we read this and not react, John?"_

_"Alex, you know why..." John looked at him from the other side of the coffee table. They were both sitting on the floor in front of each other._

_"I know, I know martyrdom helps no one but... John, this is awful. People are suffering, disappearing, dying. If we could do something-"_

_"If we_ could _do something, we would. But we haven't been able to gather any intel that would help us make a difference, Alexander. Throwing yourself at the Council's Guards will just be swept under the rug. Another name for their nonexistent list."_

_"I don't know, there must be something. What about next time this happens? The time after that? How can I sleep knowing there's people going through this?" He paused and ran a hand through his hair. "These were two men, John. They were taken because they loved each other. Can't you see?" He looked at John with desperation in his eyes. He could see he needed to rest, he was losing focus. He'd take him home once Laf and Herc were back. "John, how can I sleep with the fear that this might happen to you next?"_

They were all sitting in silence now. Angelica still in her spot, Lafayette next to her. John sat on the floor with Alex next to him. They leaned into each other's shoulders, as if a bit of contact would bring them comfort. It only reminded them what they stood to lose.

Alexander took a deep, steadying breath. He let himself feel John's weight for a second before straightening his back against the wall. If he was ever going to rally them, this was the time. He thought back on all the reasons why they shouldn't act. All the _It's too dangerous_  and the _We need to protect ourselves_. They fell out the window now that Henry was in the hospital.

"Things can happen to us. To those we care about. It doesn't matter if we _know_ or not, if we write and research. They can always find a reason to hurt us. Because of our arms, because of our minds." He spoke firmly, with conviction. He knew he was right, he'd never stopped being right. Even if he understood their reasons, he knew sitting cross-armed would not fly forever. "I know our research is important, I know we're leaving behind valuable data. But if we could just... Focus a bit of our time, try to find a way in. Some way to _hurt_ them. To tell them it's not okay, we don't condone this."

He turned his head to look at John. He was still staring at the floor in front of him with a frown.

"I'm not saying we're going to overturn the Council, I'm not delusional. But we can be a little bit more active. I don't know... We can't just sit here while kids like Henry are being beat up just because. I can't. I won't."

John looked at him then. There was something in his eyes that was too strong, too stubborn. Alexander turned and stood.

 

"Information." Lafayette spoke between small sobs. He still shivered and wept, but his voice was determined. "It's one of the most valuable things that circulate online. If we can hack them, find some evidence in their files..."

"Laf, no. They'll track you. You can't hack the Council. You know people who've tried." John reminded him.

"We're a humble operation." Angelica still didn't move, but she was blinking faster; it was her tell when an idea popped into her mind. "We're not about to take down the Nation's government." She looked around at them. "But what about a humble office? I can dig around my father's things, they don't deal with major stuff at his building but who knows?"

"If you have access to your father's laptop I can get in their intranet. At the very least I should be able to access their security cameras."

"Angie, that's great. If there's a way we can virtually get in, we could get some intel. There's bound to be something there that gives them away. _Something_."

Angelica spoke firmly, all previous hesitation gone from her voice.

"I'll find a way. We can do this, we can do... _something_."

 

Everyone nodded. The usual voices had quieted. There was no cry about danger, about keeping their heads down. Whatever peril they meant to avoid, it had come to them, it had found them regardless of every measure they took. Because Alexander was right, in a way. There was no safety possible. Henry was hurt just for existing. Tomorrow it could be the graffiti girl, it could be Eliza, it could be John; it could be any of them. It could be any number of people he didn't even know might be in danger. Any number of people who didn't know they were in danger themselves.

Alex had wanted to take action, to make their words a reality, but he hadn't imagined the kind of trigger that would need to happen for the rest of them to get on board. He was glad they were trying to do something more, but he couldn't find it in himself to gloat or be proud. Desperate times.

 

He left his own head space and his eyes landed on John. His whole stance seemed drained, taking the toll of knowing his friend's brother was in bad shape, that everything they wrote about had just become even more real. But while he nervously bit his lip, while his shoulders slouched and his fingernails roughly brushed his forearms, his eyes were now ablaze. Something had woken up within him, within all of them most likely. Something Alex himself felt, something that, he knew, he hoped, could make a real difference. He was met with that intense gaze when John suddenly looked up and towards him. He hoped he could see that same fire reflected in his own eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going through some shitty/stressful times right now, so updates might be a bit sporadic in the near future. But, again, writing this brings me solace so I might turn to it to decompress and end up being more productive, who knows?
> 
> Please let me know what you think, I swoon at your comments!  
> Also: Action! Lams! Angst! Just around the corner!


	20. The Possibilities

 

 

"Alexander!" John's eyes were wide as he opened the door to Lafayette's apartment, and there was something, an expression on his face Alex couldn't quite describe. He kept running out of words lately and it was just another item in the list of things that annoyed him from the last few weeks. The momentum from their decision to act had all but died down in the time it was taking to find a way in, and it was discouraging, to say the least. Alexander had been the one claiming from day one they needed to _do_ something, yet he was just as clueless as everyone else as to _what_  to do and _how_. He felt foolish, childish. All of his drive and desire to move forward and it was clear he hadn't even discovered which direction forward was.

"Come in!" John was grabbing his arm and pulling him inside with child-like enthusiasm. He looked over his shoulder as he walked in front of him towards the living room. "We've got it!"

"What?"

"Lafayette, genius Lafayette, he found a link in Schuyler's e-mails at last. Well, Hercules made the connection because Laf was whining out loud about how boring it all was and-"

"John." Alex interrupted him, grabbing the hand on his arm and pulling him backwards. "Are we... Are we doing this?" He searched his friend's eyes with disbelief. Shining, excited eyes that narrowed themselves with the tension of the smile that was growing on his face. He tightened his grip on his hand.

"We're doing this, Alexander."

 

"Alex, dear!" Lafayette's voice made John jump a bit, bringing him back to the reality where he was holding Alexander's hand and smiling at him. The reality where he was doing the opposite of dialling down his feelings. He let go of his hand quickly and steeled his face to one of only mild excitement. "Have you heard? Has John told you? I'm a genius!"

Alexander laughed and followed him on towards the living room.

"Well, we knew that already, didn't we?" He turned sideways and smirked at John. "But I've yet to hear the details of your amazing feat!"

"Oh, well, I can't take _all_  the credit. This is a team, Alexander, please!" They hadn't bantered like this in what felt like ages. John allowed his anxieties to take a step back and listened to his friends talk. "Seriously though, it's great to have something but it's not really... Good."

They sat down as the mood of the room changed and the seriousness of the situation started to set in.

"I found a few e-mails discussing something called a Filing System for a few schools, including Henry's... I started going through the files and I couldn't make sense of it at first, they seemed like roll call lists but they had color codes to fill in, and I couldn't find a discernible pattern... When I finally found Henry's class list we wrote down a few names that were marked with red question marks and Hercules took them home to ask him. He called back a few minutes ago."

"They're Unmarked." Alex frowned as he voiced his conclusion. "They're... Well, they're marking the Unmarked kids. Right?"

"Yeah... There's no traceable direct link between these lists and the violent episodes that Henry and others have experienced, but there were a couple of names crossed out from the list. One of them, Henry says transferred schools a few months ago. He hasn't been able to reach him at all."

"Woah, you think they're disappearing kids? Just for being Unmarked?"

"Henry said that kid was consistently bullied and mistreated even by some teachers, but we don't know if it was somehow organised. Not yet." John's eyes lit up with anticipation as he explained the first hints of a plan of action. "Angelica told us that her father's office keeps hard copies of all their documentation, including sensitive stuff that they're not allowed to digitalise at all..."

"We can't use Philip's key card to get in, it's too close to us."

"I know, Angie seems pretty confident she'd be able to swipe someone else's card at one of her visits to her father's office. If Laf can clone it..."

"Of course _I_ can clone it. I've messaged Nelson about this and he agrees it's worrying. He actually thinks we can pull this off which is quite encouraging, I must say."

"I'm glad your hero approves, Laf."

"So..." Alexander said, biting a smile from his lips. "We're doing this."

The three of them were quiet, eyes gazing at each other with a mix of emotions. There was fear, there was excitement, but above all else, John felt there was a sense of righteousness. The inescapable feeling that what they were doing was right. They wouldn't tear down the Council, they weren't starting a revolution by any means; but they might find something that could help kids like Henry be safe. It was worth it.

 

-

 

"I'm definitely getting your dad a fruit basket."

"You have got to be the most ridiculous person in this city, Alexander."

"I'm serious!" He insisted as they walked the University's hallways. "I'll just draft a mysterious admirer note, so no one's suspicious, and he won't even know why he's being appreciated but he'll feel warm and happy and come home that night with a smile on his face."

"And a bunch of fruit."

"Which is always good! It's important to eat healthy, Angelica, surely you must know that."

"Please stop, you're starting to sound like you want to replace my mother what with you wooing my father and feeding me healthy shit."

Alex stopped walking abruptly. "I... What? Why would you say that?"

"Huh?" Angelica turned back towards him and took in his expression. "Um... It was just a joke, man, I know you don't fancy my dad."

"Of course I-!" He stopped himself from raising his voice. From making a scene. From reacting the way he might have a few months ago. "...don't." He finished softly.

Angelica grabbed him by the arm, firm but kindly, and led him the rest of the way to his dorm room in silence.

 

"Alex... What the hell was that?" Her voice was soft, concerned. Truth be told, Alexander wasn't sure what that had been. "Are you okay?"

"I..." Alex's voice drifted as he sat down on his bed and tried to figure out the answer to that question. His hand went to touch the comforter and landed on a blue sweatshirt; John's. He moved his hand back to his lap. "I think... All this new information, I've been... Well, I've been thinking about it a lot, obviously, we've been working like crazy and even without you guys it's constantly in my mind. I told...- I realised it's changed the way I look at the world and how I perceive things around me. I just... I don't believe I've considered how it might affect... Me."

The thoughts were coming together as he spoke them out loud. There were many things bugging him in the back of his mind since his realisation, but this was a particular box that seemed too complicated to even open.

Angelica seemed to understand. She sat down on the floor in front of him, consciously avoiding the mess that was John's bed. She let silence wash over them for a little bit, pondering her words with a care Alex had only ever seen her treat her sister with. It was reassuring.

"I think it's difficult because it doesn't _have_  to affect you in that way. I mean..." She cast a glance at John's bed; they seemed to be in agreement not to mention him directly. "Some people just know, you know? But I don't believe it's always that simple. I read a pamphlet once that said you can't have what you don't know exists. Your world has broadened itself to a whole lot of new possibilities now, a lot of choices you didn't know you could have. You're not mandated to take any one of those, but..."

She bit her lip.

"Angie?" Alex's voice seemed small. He'd always believed himself independent, yet he was hanging on her words, trying to get them to shed some light in this corner of his mind he couldn't make out yet.

"Look, you know best, but... If it's messing with your head like this, to the point of doubting yourself, I'd say there's something worth exploring there."

Alexander nodded slowly, his head tired and heavy. He let himself fall back on his bed and ignored the lump of clothes that weren't his, yet surrounded him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've drafted this 'sorry' note a thousand times already but I'm truly sorry I left this alone for so long. Life has been kicking me every which way, not in a fully bad way but in a tiring, demanding, anxiety-filled way, so I've barely had free time to devote to this and I've been less than inspired, to top that. College is kicking my ass and, being a design major, sucking all my inspiration for this big project I'm working on and it's been super draining. But I'm turning that in this week so I hope my mind will reboot itself and I'll be able to breathe a little bit. I moved away from my parents' for the first time in the middle of it all so I'm a mess of changes right now. So yeah, life's been eventful.  
> Anyway, I feel like this could be a lot better (and longer) (and I haven't reviewed it as much as I usually do so let me know if you spot any mistakes), but it's a necessary step towards the action (!!) and getting it out of the way is a necessary step for me to overcome this drought and get on to writing the kickass scenes that are coming up *crosses fingers*.  
> At this point I feel like I'm probably writing this just for myself, but if you're still here -thank you so much! I got a guest kudos the other night and it spurred me on to write this, so it's true what they say: kudos and comments are writer boosts!


	21. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feelings!  
> Action!  
> The return of the intro quotes!

 

_"It is imperative that the Nation knows that this was an act of teenage rebellion, with no foundation whatsoever. The misleading documents they were sharing were confiscated and eliminated, we hope nobody else will find themselves hurt by such foolishness. Once the culprits were caught, it became evident that they were just naïve kids; they were fined and released from custody, eventually. Where they are now is anyone's guess. I understand their families' concern, but they probably just... ran away, embarrassed of their silly declarations. The Council has no information to give on their whereabouts and no further comment to make."  
__-Official Council Statement following the apprehension and following disappearance of the self-proclaimed Seeds of the Revolution, an obscure group that had been spreading pamphlets_ _slandering_ _the ruling class, July 17th, 2130._

 

It's another two weeks before they're finally ready to act and Alexander is climbing up the walls. His nervous energy is contagious and, while he's mainly excited to show the council up, John's mind is in a less positive place. He's been studying the building's plans with Lafayette, and he can't help but repeat to himself all the things that might go wrong. They vary from sensible to panicked: What if their information is wrong? What if something's changed? What if a hurricane hits and exposes them?

"Hey." Alexander's voice is surprisingly soft. "It's going to work, John." He looked up from his book. Was he being that obvious? He felt the sides of his fingers ache from where he'd been biting at them and tried to move his wayward hair into the ponytail he'd been messing with. He looked back at the page he'd been stuck on for the past half hour, his eyes going through the shape of every letter without processing the words they formed. He sighed.

"I'm just... You know, when you first said it, that we should act and do shit... It wasn't the first I'd though of it, not by a long shot. I was a teenager when I found out about all this, I was rebellious enough to want to break every wall around me and everyone. And, to be honest, I never had much to lose myself. If anything happened to me... My family doesn't speak to me, I'm sure my sister would feel sad but... I don't know what she could miss when we haven't even spoken in two years."

"John..." John felt Alexander shift from his place and sit next to him but he was still staring at the indecipherable page of his book.

"What I mean is," he willed his voice to sound strong and sure. "my life is mine to risk, and I've accepted what might happen to me. But you guys... You all have families, people who love you. I know it's unfair, and it's your choice, but I can't help being scared for you."

 

He lifted his head then and looked Alexander in the eye. The honesty reflected in them seemed out of place here, in their dorm, in the middle of the afternoon. Maybe the darkness of the night at the riverbank helped mask some of the raw emotion they shared. Maybe the shadows that dance on their faces make it easier to expose themselves. The incandescence of the dorm room lighting bared everything; he could see John's chapped lips beneath the nervous teeth that bit them, his messy hair that he kept running his hands through, and his earnest eyes. He could see a helplessness he'd never associated with him before. It took an effort not to look away at such a display of vulnerability, but it was nothing he wouldn't do for John.

"John, I... Okay, I've got a lot to say about what just happened so bear with me, yeah?" John nodded and tried to sit up straighter. "First of all, you said it yourself: We're all choosing this. And we're kinda smart, you know?" He chuckled and Alex considered it a victory. "I won't speak for anyone other than myself, but I'm sure it's the same for them. I know the risks. I think about my grandmother back home and I'd hate for her to miss me, I'd hate doing something like that to her. But I also know she raised me to be this person, and I have to trust that she'd be proud that I want to do something for others. That I'm not about to sit in the corner when I have a chance, as small as it might be, to change things for the better. So yeah, of course I don't want anything to happen to me, or to any of us, but I know that even if it did, this is worth it."

"That's not going to stop me worrying though. It's good to know but..."

"I know. Which brings me to my second point."

 

Alexander shifted so he was sitting cross legged and facing John. He licked his lips and blinked fast; John recognised the signs of him trying to find the exact words for what he was trying to say. It was a mark that he needed to express himself correctly, that the matter at hand was important. John willed his heart not to beat any faster.

"I don't know a lot about traditional families. All I've had for the longest time was my grandma, you know. So I can't really answer for your father, or your sister. I can't understand those relationships farther than 3-year-old-me could. But I do understand some things, and there's things that I'm sure of. For instance, you're an idiot."

John blinked and lifted his shy eyes to face his friend; he was frowning, but his lips were curved in a small smile that his heart took as a sign to sprint. He couldn't look away anymore.

"If you think the only people that might miss you if anything happened to you are them, you've been masquerading as a smart man this whole time when in reality you're a huge idiot. We love you, John. And we're not insane enough to think we could talk you out of anything you set your mind to, but that doesn't mean that we don't care about you. That we're not afraid for you, too." He reached out and took John's hand in his. He was speechless though, and went along with it, not looking away from Alexander's eyes for a second. "You taught me that life isn't limited to your family and your soulmate. That you can make friends, develop relationships that are just as meaningful, even more meaningful than those. That you can care for people with a wild fire that pushes them forward, instead of locking them in. That you can love anyone you choose to, no matter what anyone or any _thing_  says." He paused, and for a moment they were just sitting there, holding hands and staring into each other's eyes. And John didn't think about what would happen if someone were to walk in and see them like that; he didn't think about the messed up world he lived in and everything that was risky and complicated about what was happening. He'd cherish that moment, where he allowed himself to just be with him, to forget about everything else and just feel the warmth of his hand, and the intensity of his stare; where they just _were_.

"I won't say I'm not a bit scared, I won't lie like that but damn, John. You've given me that certainty, that we can do anything, that we can _be_  anything. And honestly, I don't care about odds, about stories of failed attempts or any of those things. I believe in you, I believe in us. I believe enough to be sure that this is a risk I would take a hundred times over."

 

John would never understand how he stopped himself from kissing him.

 

-

 

They staked out the back door for half an hour. According to what Lafayette had learned, the last guard's shift had ended two hours ago, but they could never be too careful. The side entrance was only used by a few employees, including the maintenance man whose key card they had cloned. Hercules, Alexander and John walked swiftly towards the door, entering without issue.

"Guess Laf really is a genius, huh?" Hercules whispered and the mood was lightened slightly.

Alexander could feel every muscle in his body tingle with adrenaline as John led them through the corridors, through the path he had memorised from staring at blueprints with Angelica for hours, figuring out their best plan. He looked up at one of the security cameras, noticing its red light was off. Lafayette was truly a genius. He'd stayed behind to monitor online activity, while making sure his hack was working in shutting off the security cameras that covered their route. Angelica was with him; risking anyone spotting her would immediately implicate her father and it wasn't something they could afford.

 

John was silent, his eyes hard. He was focused with a methodical nerve on the task at hand. Three doors to the right, two to the left; turn left at the intersection and find the fifth door to the right. The office archives. He turned the knob with ease and ushered his friends in. He allowed himself to breathe out.

There were no cameras inside this room, so even Lafayette's skills hadn't prepared them for what was inside: boxes, and boxes, and boxes; files, over files, over files. There didn't seem to be a logical order, so they spread out through the room and started browsing what they could reach.

Alexander looked out at Hercules and noticed his hands trembling. He could feel the desperation that emanated from his friend. Henry's future might be determined in one of those files, they didn't know what they could find, and how it could affect his little brother's life. Alex didn't have siblings, he didn't have anyone he'd cared about all his life with that protective feeling he could sense whenever Hercules discussed his brother; he didn't think everyone was like that, he remembered John's sister, all but disappearing from his life as soon as she was married and chanced a look at the other man, his words from the night before still ringing in his ear. He didn't know what caring for a sibling was, but he felt the need to wrap his arms around John and keep all harm away from him, as irrational as such a thought was.

 

"Guys." Hercules' voice was small, but in the tense silence of the room they both heard it and approached him. "Is this.. What..."

His hands were full on shaking now, and Alex gently grabbed the paper from his hands, holding his breath as a smiling Henry Mulligan looked up at him from the page.

"It's his school photo, it's... What does it say?"

"Um... I'm not sure, it's... I think these are his grades, it goes back a few years." Alex turned the page over. " _Weak points_. It's... Shit. It's notes from his teachers. _'Henry is exceptionally cool-headed, and shows no reaction when Unmarked status is mentioned in class. Might be suitable for GA.'_ "

"The fuck is GA?" John spoke, a little louder than expected.

"Go on." Hercules looked pale but his voice didn't waver.

" _'Possible triggers: Income status, weak muscle, b-_ " Alex stopped for a second but didn't tear his eyes from the page. " _'brother in college.'_  It... What the hell is this? Random shit that he gets upset about? What's the point in this?"

"Alex..." John pointed at a smaller piece of paper stapled to the top of the page.

 

_January 13th, 2142_

_Fight with Adams, J. - black eye_

_March 22nd, 2142_

_Incident on Park St. - broken nose, assortment of bruises_

_July 2nd, 2142_

_Fight with Lee, C. - minor bruises, cuts in arms (knife?)_

_November 30th, 2142_

_Fight with KA-284 - broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, mild concussion (hospital)_

"It's a record of every time he was hurt..." Alexander's breath hitched as he saw the rest of the page.

 

_December 14th, 2142_

___________________ ___________________

_December 27th, 2142_

___________________ ___________________

_January 5th, 2143_

___________________ ___________________

_January 18th, 2143_

___________________ ___________________

 

He felt John's presence behind him, felt his body tense as he saw the blank spaces for the months to come.

"Herc, I..." Alex had no words anymore. He handed his friend the piece of paper and tried to keep a steady hand as he provided evidence that the violence against his brother wasn't casual, wasn't random, and it wasn't going to stop. Hercules froze on the spot.

 

John clenched his fists, pursed his lips, and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this makes sense, scenes where actual things happen are *h a r d*!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and for all your kind comments.


	22. The Slip

 

"John?"

"We can't take this." Alexander snapped his head back towards Hercules, who spoke in such a small voice it sounded like he would break. His eyes looked tired, his stance hard. Resigned, defeated, that's what he looked like. Alex hated it. "You need to leave it exactly where you found it. We can't-" His breath caught on his throat and his chest heaved with the strength of it. "It'll be worse if it's missing. For him."

Alex understood, and he took the file from Hercules' trembling hand and put it back. They couldn't risk putting a bigger target on Henry's back. Through the corner of his eye, he could see Hercules sifting through some papers slowly, absent-mindedly. Maybe they'd find something they could take that wouldn't endanger anyone else. Maybe they'd find something that could help Henry avoid whatever's coming his way next. Maybe...

 

Alexander sighed as he went through another pile of papers. His thoughts were a mess, he couldn't even begin to understand what this meant for Henry, for them, for this moment. They couldn't leave empty handed, not if this information could somehow save kids from beatings and hate. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that there was an active, Council-sponsored plan to bully unmarked kids until... Until what? He shivered at the thought.

A face appeared in his mind, a kind-eyed woman who always had candy. He couldn't remember her name, but he remembered her house back at Valley Forge. She had paintings covering most of her walls, and an easel always carrying some work in progress by the window. Alexander remembered walking by and seeing her at work, with a paintbrush in hand and a serene smile on her face. He used to help her around the house some afternoons in the summer; she had an awful limp and Alexander enjoyed the smell of paint and jasmine far too much to mind carrying a few things from room to room.

She lived alone and always wore long sleeves.

-

_Don't scream._

John bit his closed fist until he was sure his skin wore the dents of his teeth. 

_Don't scream._

He had to get away, he couldn't look at Hercules' face.

_Coward. Don't scream._

He knew it made no sense but he felt responsible somehow. As if knowing this was what made it real, as if Henry would be alright if they didn't know about the danger he was in. He shook his head, tried in vain to put his thoughts in order. He walked mindlessly through the hallways, finding his way back to the office where he'd left Alexander and Hercules. He didn't realise he'd walked so far, but in a minute he was back outside the door. He took a deep breath.

Knowing was better, that's what he always believed. They might be able to do something, help Henry, help other kids... He had no idea how, but they would have to figure it out.

 

He walked in quietly. If Hercules noticed, he didn't react, moving papers from one pile to another, barely reading them. Alexander lifted his head and gave him a sad smile. He stood next to him and looked at the pile of papers in front of him.

"I shouldn't have left, I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay." They were whispering. "Are you...?"

"Alright? No, I don't think any of us are." He sighed. "But we have to be."

"No." Alexander grabbed his wrist suddenly. "You don't _have_ to be alright. We'll figure this out but don't..." He looked back at Hercules for a second. "Later, yeah?"

John nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to.

-

It was all a blur for Alexander from there on. Somehow they were out on the street, a few blocks away from the building.

"I should... I need to... Henry..." Hercules couldn't find the words to complete his sentences but they understood.

"Go, we'll brief Laf and Angie." John patted his shoulder with a half smile. Alexander almost jumped to hug him. Herc looked surprised but still comforted. He hugged Alex back and they parted without further words.

 

The stop at Lafayette's apartment was just as hazy. John did most of the talking, in that weird, cold voice he used when things got tough. Alex was somewhere else, but he noticed a few tears falling from Laf's eyes, and the mad trembling of Angelica's shoulders. He saw John leave the papers they'd sneaked out on the kitchen table; him John excuse themselves and lead them outside again.

"Home?" He turned to Alexander and gave him a tired smile, and Alex felt that he could breathe again.

"Home."

 

And yes, home was their small dorm room. Home was the place he'd first met John, where he'd studied countless nights, where they'd argued, where he'd found out the truth. Their bench by the river was a special place, but as they entered their dorm room, Alex thought of the safety he felt just being there with John. It made no sense; they were always looking over their shoulders at the campus, talking in hushed tones. But then John sat on Alexander's bed and he could see the tension drain from his shoulders as he let go. As he allowed himself not to be the strong leader, the cold man who had to deliver awful news to their friends. Alex looked at him as he stood by the door and his friend looked small and vulnerable. He felt glad he could be like that around him.

 

John bent his head down and held it with his hands.

"I need to pull myself together, I can't be like this."

"John, please." Alex sat next to him and placed a soft hand on his back. "You're allowed to break down, it's only normal."

"No, it's not!" John lifted his head with a sad smile as he whisper-shouted his frustration. "Nothing's normal, I'm not normal! I can't-" Alexander could see the tears threatening to fall and the determined strength with which he was keeping them at bay. "It has to make me strong, all of this. I can't break down, I'm the tough one. I'm the one that keeps everyone moving, they look up to me, If I give up..."

"Hey, it's okay." Alex spoke softly, trying not to show how much his heart was breaking seeing John like this. The amazing man that had taught him to allow himself to feel, locking himself away from his own emotions. It wasn't right, but still he could understand. He saw the way Lafayette looked at John whenever new information came up that further showed the atrocities of the Council. How Hercules always backed him up but never spoke first. He'd even caught Angelica giving small glances to him as if looking for reassurance after saying something. Whether he meant to or not, John was the leader of their group, and they needed him. "They're not here now, it's just me. You can let go, John."

 

The tears started to fall and John silently leaned against Alexander's shoulder.

"I just... I've been fighting for so long. All they've known of me is the crazy kid that's headstrong and confident. If I can't be that guy, I don't know what I can bring to the table."

"Woah, John, just. Hold up. You're being ridiculous. Look, I can't speak for them but I'm sure they care about you beyond your leadership skills; you're not just partners in this venture, you're _friends_. I get that you're the rock in that dynamic, but you're just as human as they are. You're allowed to be vulnerable, to break down. The things we saw today... Hell, it was just letters on paper but, their meaning, it wasn't easy to swallow. No one would expect you to be indifferent to that."

 

Alexander sighed and moved his arm to hold John closer to him. He couldn't see his face but he could feel the tears that were now damping his own shirt. It wasn't nice to witness his best friend feeling so awful, but at the same time, he was glad he could be like that around him.

As soon as he thought of that, John seemed to realise that as well. He straightened up hurriedly and rubbed his tears from his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm okay, really. I'm fine, I..." He lifted his eyes and made contact with Alex's worried ones and his words got lost. They both knew he was lying.

"John, please. Listen to what I'm trying to say. I don't care what your relationship to the other guys is, but you and me? You're not a leader to me, you're not a strong, closed off, stubborn man with a plan. You're the confusing kid who walked the city with me when no one else talked to me. You're the first person I ever felt I could have a meaningful conversation with, the first person I ever felt comfortable enough with to speak my mind without second thought. My words are always so calculated, always an effort to be the best version of me I can be... You always made me feel like whatever side of me I was showing was okay. That's the guy I'm proud to call my friend. Not just the tough leader, but the honest and kind man. And I won't ever be able to express how grateful I am for you. So please, John, lean on me. Break down, cry, scream, do whatever you need to do. I'm here for you."

 

Alexander hugged him back as tightly as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick and dealing with loads of stress from the semester being almost over. I'm not terribly satisfied with this chapter, but it's here and sometimes that's good enough. *sigh*  
> I'm sorry if it's a bit choppy at times, it'll get better, I promise. I'll be able to clear my head soon enough.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


	23. The Actions & The Consequences

There was a faint buzzing in the room when John woke up. He could feel the sunlight hitting his closed eyes and he shifted to find the shadow his desk made at the far side of his bed. There was a small weight on his shoulder and the sun kept hitting his face mercilessly and the buzzing was starting again. He pulled himself to a sitting position and Alexander's hand fell from its resting place on John's shoulder. Alexander's hand. Alexander's bed.

The buzzing from his phone stopped but was replaced with a buzzing in his head. Alexander's sleep was uninterrupted; as his hand fell, he curled it up against himself without real notice. John ran a nervous hand through his face as he stared at his roommate and tried not to freak out.

_Keep your feelings out of this, put them away tidily and live your life. Don't cry on his shoulder. Don't fall asleep with him on his bed. Don't wake up and stare wistfully at his face. And don't ever pour your innermost fears into the man you..._

He'd be lying to himself if he said it was supposed to be easy. It never was. It wasn't easy when it was just a crush, it wasn't easy when it was a friendship he cherished more than any other relationship in his life. John was never very good at lying to himself. He was smart and rational and knew what was going on, he knew he was falling in love with his friend and that it could never end well. He knew it wasn't safe to feel that way, and he knew it'd be unfair to put that pressure on a guy who'd barely just began understanding the real possibilities of love.

He allowed himself a few seconds of looking at him, at the way the sun lit his face and didn't seem to bother his sleep. The way he kept his body curled into itself even though he had the whole mattress to himself now. How his right hand stretched a bit, reaching out absentmindedly and resting on the free sheets. And that was it. That was the last lenience he could afford. He straightened his spine and turned towards his phone.

There were 4 missed calls from Lafayette.

 

"Alright, just... Yeah... No, man, I trust you. Of course... Let me wake up Alex and we'll be there soon... Yes... Laf, listen to me. It'll be okay, trust me... We'll talk in a bit, take a breather, drink some water, step away from the computer for a second... I know, I know... Alright, I'll be there as soon as I can..."

Alexander woke up to a cold feeling and John's voice on the telephone. His brain perked up immediately when he sensed the tense tone and got up. He was still in last night's clothes, and John's eyes were slightly swollen. He caught his eye as he hung up.

"Alex, hey. That was Laf, I..." He sighed, unable to stand still for long. "Look, about last night, I'm-"

"John. Don't be sorry, please. Remember what I said, I'm here for you."

"Still, I-"

"John." Alex got up and grabbed his arm, stopping his pacing and prompting his eyes to focus on him instead of idly wandering the room. "Any time." He tried to portray in his voice, in his eyes, how serious he was. How much he meant it, how much he needed John to understand he would always be there for him, no matter what.

It seemed he was somewhat successful, for John's shoulders released the tension and he sighed.

"Laf called. He's worried about something he's been reading online, he wouldn't discuss it on the phone."

"Alright. Let's get changed and grab some coffee and head over, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Alex smiled and let go of him, turning towards the closet. John grabbed his wrist suddenly.

"Alexander..." He seemed shy all of a sudden. "Thank you."

 

-

 

Lafayette's door was locked when they arrived. He rushed to open it for them and hurried them inside. He immediately went back to his seat at his computer, which he seemed to have barely left at all for a good while.

"Laf?"

"Just... Yeah, a second."

Alexander and John looked at each other, confused and worried. They sat in front of their friend and waited as his wide eyes searched the screen and his fingers typed swiftly. There were more wires than ever plugged into his laptop, and a few devices on the table John had never seen before. He started tying up the string of words he'd gotten from him on the phone before. Security.

"Lafayette, is this-"

"Don't!" He lifted a hand without taking his eyes of the screen and pressed hard on a few more keys before his shoulders relaxed slightly and he met their eyes. "Sorry, I'm... I was implementing a few security updates, they won't be able to hear us now, but you should still keep your voice down in case we get nosy neighbours or something." He cast a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Laf, what's going on?" Alexander chanced a hand on his arm and it seemed to help ground him. John wasn't sure if he was having some sort of paranoid panic attack, or if... Lafayette was the smartest person he knew, and he trusted his sense of danger. He wished for a random burst of irrationality from him right now.

"I didn't mean to scare you, dear, but I... Well, I gotta say I am a bit scared myself. There's been talk..." He leaned back and took a deep breath. "There's not that many people in the networks I'm in, and if they found out so quickly, then it's bound to go mainstream soon. We need to prepare somehow, I... They know."

"Wh-what do they know?" John didn't need to ask who.

"They know at least that someone was in their offices last night. Apparently there's some big upheaval in a few inner circles, strings are being pulled and things being put into motion that means something is going to happen. I... I don't understand, I did everything right. The feeds were cut, I checked, no one could have seen anything happen in the sector you were in, I'm sure of it."

"Okay, let's just... Let's take a deep breath and think this through, yeah?" John knew they'd work this out, they had to. Alexander was rubbing circles on Laf's back, looking down and brow creased; John wished he could see his eyes, find some kind of comfort in him.

"We're still here." Alex still looked down but his voice was firm. "If they knew who we were, they'd have gotten to us by now, but we're still here."

"Damn it. Herc. Angie. Have you heard from them yet?"

"I talked to Hercules this morning, he was taking his brother to an aunt's house just in case. He said he'd come by later. I texted Angelica but she hasn't replied."

It all got silent for a moment.

"It's still early." Alex reasoned. "There's a million reasons why she might not have answered, let's not... Let's not fret unless we have to."

 

But he lifted his face and looked at John and he knew. He knew he couldn't hide his anxiety, the fear that everything was going to hell. That something had happened to Angelica, that something might still happen to all of them. He saw John look away and he knew, too. He knew that John couldn't bear to show him that he was also afraid, that he didn't know what to do.

"I-I'm going to call her." Lafayette got up to search for his phone, leaving Alex and John sitting on the floor, not looking at each other, in silence for a few seconds until Alexander couldn't take it anymore and started to crawl to get closer to him.

"Don't." He placed his hand on his arm softly.

"What?" John looked up and everything he thought he'd find in his eyes was there.

"Don't do this. Don't say you're sorry, don't blame yourself. Whatever happens, it isn't your fault."

He expected John to argue, to crumble and cry perhaps, but even with all the pain that reflected in his gaze, he laughed.

"You're unbelievable, Alexander. I don't know... You know me too well."

Alex just shrugged, suddenly nervous, but smiled back at John and there was a loud banging at the door that brought a cold chill down their spines. Lafayette was beside them immediately, staring at the door in fear.

"Let me in, you assholes!"

Angelica. They could breathe again.

Lafayette walked towards the door and unlocked it carefully, and soon she was barging in in a mad whirlwind of energy, rambling about her father and the Council and the break-in and a lot of words Alexander was having a hard time following after the soul-shattering moment when a knock on the door had meant imprisonment and isolation and leaving his friends and everything he knew and John and...

"Evidence..." Laf's voice was far off, and they'd never heard him speak like that. As if they were hearing something that completely defied logic. Even with the wildest revelations they'd found, his mind had found the place where they could fit in the grand scheme of things. Not this. He was back on his computer in no time, entering a well-known daze of searching.

"I don't know much, I just know they're sure that someone broke in. I don't believe they know what for, but my father got called in very early and apparently the whole office is a mess about this. He just let my mother know he'd be staying late because there were inspectors from higher up trying to sort through some things." Angelica finally sat down at that, her nervous energy seeming to run out all at once. "I'm sorry I don't know more yet, I'll try to ask my father without raising suspicion..."

"I don't think that will be necessary..." Laf said as he read something on his screen. He reached to turn the TV on.

 

" _...security has been raised at all Council facilities. This attack was unsuccessful in creating any sort of damage, but one can never be too careful..._ "

Sure enough, there were media reports all over of a break-in, _alleged terrorist act_ , against the Council and the Nation and everything that was Good. John scoffed, of course they'd find the way to turn a security snafu into another chance to indoctrinate people and instill fear. And now he had helped feed into that too.

_"...we haven't really seen any sort of terrorist move for a good while, there are no rebel organisations left. We don't have an official statement yet, but word is this was probably an isolated incident by disorderly misfits..."_

He shook his head. No. Thinking like that helped no one, and knowing what they now knew did. Lafayette had already posted their findings to his network and it would help in their fight, it could keep kids safe at the very least. It was worth it, it was still worth it.

_"...we have footage that's been recovered of this event, it's not very clear what's going on but it's been requested that we broadcast this so citizens can be in alert..."_

He looked sideways at Lafayette, Angelica and Alexander. Their eyes were set on the television and their faces varied in shades of anger and fear. He sighed and look down, running a hand through his face. He hated that he'd risked them, that he'd let them do this. It was right but what would happen if they were hurt?

 

Alexander grabbed his hand suddenly.

John looked up and saw himself on the screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo.... Yeah.
> 
> I don't think I'll be able to post anything next week, but soon after that I'll be on winter break from university work so I'll have more time to write -yay!
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	24. The Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically every time I say I have no idea when I'll be able to update, I get super inspired and write a lot and *make* time appear, so there you go!

 

What had been his biggest fear before? The worst he could imagine were officers banging the door and taking all of them away. He couldn't picture anything after that. But his blood ran cold when he saw John's face on the screen, labeled a terrorist, the graphic warning the public to stay alert, inform the Council if he was spotted. John's grief-stricken face, his fists tight at his sides, showing all the pain the papers had caused him that he hadn't felt free to show. A closed-off, angry John. Alexander's hand had acted on its own accord and was holding John's, who was staring wide-eyed ahead in shock.

Lafayette and Angelica were saying something, but he couldn't hear it. John was somewhere else and Alex held onto his hand, begging to be taken with. He didn't know what he wanted to say, what he wanted John to know right now. There weren't any words for the situation they were in, and he wouldn't lie to him. Things weren't going to be alright, there was no easy solution to this. John was now a wanted man, and there hadn't been a public search for anyone in decades. The Council dealt with things quietly, in the dark, its citizens unaware and at peace. Now someone had broken that peace and they were broadcasting the face of the culprit. There was no hiding.

 

"I'm sorry I'm so late, I rushed here as soon as I heard." The sounds of the world were coming back to him and he noticed Herc's voice now. "How is he?"

"He hasn't really... Moved." Angelica. "This is so messed up."

"Laf?" There was the sound of keystrokes.

"I'm trying to reach Nelson, see if he'll help us. Everyone's gone quiet after this."

"They're afraid..." Hercules sounded defeated and John agreed.

"They're cowards." A voice closer to him, muttering, only in a whisper. He was quite sure the others couldn't hear Alexander talking to himself. "What good is a revolution if we're not willing to stick up for our own. Cowards. Hiding behind a computer."

The air was thick and moving was slow-motion, but John managed to turn his head slightly and find Alex next to him, slowly finding focus on his face. His eyes seemed to widen even further as he took in John's movement.

"Hey."

"John. You're back." He squeezed his hand and John held it tightly.

He frowned. "You can't go home."

"What?"

"The dorms. You're my roommate, you... You should stay here. Lay low. I'm sorry. We'll figure out some story so you can go to class and-"

"John, what are you talking about?"

"I'm not dragging you down with me."

Everyone had gone quiet, realising John was talking. He raised his voice.

"I'm not dragging anyone down with me."

 

Alexander's heart broke when he looked into John's eyes and realised what was going to happen.

"You will both stay here until we can figure out something more permanent. John shouldn't be out in public at all right now." Lafayette's tone was firm.

"Is there anywhere in the City he might be safe? Have any of your contacts reached out yet, Laf?"

"No, but it's still early."

"Lafayette, get off the computer." John stood up suddenly.

"What? No! I'm sure someone will reach out eventually."

"I don't care. You can't let anyone know you know me, you can't risk the Council finding you. Shut it off. Now."

His voice was commanding and Lafayette sunk a little bit into himself as he closed the lid of his laptop.

"This isn't something I can get out of. There's risks we're willing to take and there's risks that are too much. This is too much."

"But John, it's your life." Angelica's voice had never sounded so quiet before. "We can't just give up."

"We _won't_ give up." Hercules stood up and grabbed John by the shoulders. "We'll wait a bit, lay low, hide. We'll figure out a plan eventually."

"I... I need to be alone for a bit."

 

As the bedroom door closed behind him, the silence became a sentence and no one was brave enough to break it.

There was sound of sirens outside.

 

-

 

Alexander knocked on the door and entered the room.

John was sitting on the bed, facing the window. He didn't look back.

"Hey."

"Look, I know what you're going to say, but I still need to ask." Alex sat on the bed next to him. "Come home with me? To Valley Forge? I don't know if it's safe there, I don't know if anywhere's safe right now, but it's far away from here and people don't ask a lot of questions. We could hide for a while and maybe..."

John turned to him and his face wasn't sad. 

"Alexander... Thank you. You've been an amazing friend and I... I do appreciate the offer, and I won't say it isn't tempting. But I can't do that to you. I know you'll say it doesn't matter but it does, to me. I can't take away your life because of a mistake I made, I wouldn't be able to live with that guilt and that's... That's not the kind of life I want to live." He sighed.

"I know."

"I'm really sorry, Alexander."

"Don't be." He laughed softly. "I mean, yeah, maybe be a bit sorry that you stepped off path and got caught on tape but... I get it, kind of. And even if I didn't, I can respect that."

 

Others might not understand. Might value their lives more, perhaps. And perhaps there was a bit of self-destruction involved in all of this. But John was sure of this. 

The right choice wasn't always easy. It was painful and unfair, but it was his to make. If he was to die, he would stay true to himself. He would spare his friends, so they could keep fighting however they could; keep on living lives that proved there were things the Council couldn't control yet. That their minds and their hearts would not be restrained. 

John thought of his life, of everything he'd lived. The happy smile of his sister on her wedding day; the feel of the spines of the books that showed him the truth; the sound of Lafayette's laughter when he'd tried in vain explaining computer science to him; Angelica's determined smile that made him feel like they could accomplish anything. He thought of Hercules, the love and care in his eyes as he watched over his injured brother. Of how he would fight to protect him every time. Of how they might have given him a better chance to survive. 

He thought of himself, of his teenage struggles; the scars on his arm and the sleepless nights. Of finding himself, and allowing himself to just _be_ , building the strong sense of belief that he wasn't broken. He thought of Alexander and he thought of allowing himself to finally _feel_. 

It hurt to think of him. Of all the wonderful things he would do, the amazing thoughts he would form, and knowing he wouldn't be there to share them. He wouldn't see his confidence grow and his heart soar with freedom. But it would happen. He was free and he would continue to be free, and that's what made the decision so clear in John's mind. 

Just because he wouldn't live to see it, didn't mean it wasn't worth it.

The sirens came and went and came and went as the patrols made their way through the city, and it was only a matter of time.

He hoped they would understand. He hoped he would not forget him. 

 

"I can't stay, I'm putting you all in danger." They knew this was coming but that didn't make it any less of a shock. "Think about Eliza, about Henry. You still need to protect them. There's still work to be done and you can't do it if I drag you down with me. I was reckless, this was my fault. I'm willing to own up to it."

Everyone started speaking up in protest, words blending together into a buzzing sound. Half-baked plans and wishful thinking mingling together with a desperate sort of hope that John could understand but not comply to. The decision was made, but hurting his friends was not something he was enjoying.

“John's right" Alexander's voice, soft but firm. He was looking straight into his eyes. "We knew what we were getting into. This is bigger than any of us, and if we all get caught it will be covered up, silenced. It will all have been for nothing. The fight is not over. We can make a difference still. But not if we’re all taken”. John swallowed hard. Even if, for a second, he wished for Alex to cry, and cling to him, and beg him not to leave him, this was the person he'd fallen for. The one who was strong and smart enough to understand. He let himself wish for the riverside. For one last private moment, a chance to tell Alexander how amazing he was, how much he'd changed his life for the better. John wanted to tap inside that brilliant mind one more time, to catch a glimpse of Alexander's soul; one that wasn't bound to anything or anyone but still chose to show itself to him. There weren't enough words to express all that, anyway.

There weren't words to breach the magnitude of everything he was feeling; how he'd miss Lafayette's endearments, Hercules' booming laughter and Angelica's witty remarks. The mornings and afternoons and nights spent working together, and laughing together, and being a part of something important, something real. Or how grateful he was that he'd even been able to experience that.

"I know this is not how we expected this to go but. Even if I don't get to see this through, I will always be glad to have been a part of this. And I'm damn proud of us. If this is the last day I live, I'm proud to say I've lived with a free heart. That's worth fighting for. That's worth dying for." 

His voice didn’t break, it didn’t waver. He was sure. Everyone was silent. John's eyes found Alexander's and he nodded at him, a strong, resolute stare that still held the weight of this decision, of so much that was unspoken but didn't need to be said to be known. John wondered if that was enough. Lafayette let out a deep breath and hugged him, whispering words of affection in his ear. Hercules gave him a firm handshake. He had tears running down his cheeks. John hugged him tightly. Angelica kissed both his cheeks “We won't forget you, John”. He appreciated the honesty; he didn’t want to be rescued, it made no sense that they’d even try. He would die an honorable death and, hopefully, his friends would continue to fight and see his dream become a reality. That would be enough.

Alexander hugged him close and John lost himself for a moment in his embrace. He pulled away slowly, reluctantly.

“John, I… Thank you. I can imagine what my life would have been without you. Safe, quiet... Boring. " He smirked and John grinned. “Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me." He looked at him seriously and John let himself feel sad for the first time since his decision.

Then Alexander leaned forward and kissed him. John placed his hand softly on his cheek as their lips touched. It only lasted a few seconds but it felt like years worth of talks and experiences and feelings condensed into a single moment.

"They can never take that away." Alex whispered between them, as John stared into his eyes, closer than they'd ever been, and felt his resolve burn stronger than ever. This was real. He didn't want to lose this, he desperately wanted to hold onto this, to him, as tightly as he could and will everything else away. But he knew he couldn't; the same reasons why it was so precious were the ones that stopped him from keeping it. This was what he fought for, and he couldn't give up now. 

John allowed himself three more seconds by Alexander's side. He ran his thumb over his cheekbone, tenderly; a small gesture of the feelings he couldn't put into words.

His eyes wet with unshed tears, he flashed him a small smile and ran outside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.  
> The last part of this was, I believe, the first thing I ever wrote for this fic and I'm kind of in love with that scene; I've seen it play in my head a thousand times and to finally wrap it in context and publish it feels like a Big Deal, so there. I'm excited but also super nervous to see how it's received. I do believe I've been working my way to it with character development and whatnot but I'm still kind of terrified sooooo.... Hope you liked it, please don't hate me too much!  
> It's a bumpy road but it's a road alright.
> 
> [Also: I'm not saying anything about when the next update is coming because evidently I can't even be consistent with being busy, so what's the point haha. Let's just agree that this is on a weekly-ish update schedule.]
> 
> [[Also #2: I've recovered some old drabbles that might turn into a couple of shorter, simpler fics soon, so I might be posting some of that in the next couple of weeks. I want to have a good amount of prewritten material before I start posting but I always say that and never resist too long so... Hopefully I'll see you around those too!]]


	25. The Hurt

_"Please know that whatever you hear is untrue. You have gotten to know me. The real me. Trust in your memories, trust in my voice in your mind. I am still the man you met. Whatever they may do to me, whatever they may threaten, that will always be my truth. I am free, I am proud, and I am yours."_

_-Unsent letter, written by John Laurens while in captivity (intended recipient unknown)._

There were louder sirens and shouting and the sounds of people moving about in a hurry outside, but Alexander couldn't process any of that. John's eyes were ingrained in his mind and he refused to let them go in fear of ever forgetting a single detail of what they looked like.

He cursed at himself, furious that he had let him go, that he had been understanding and supporting when all he had wanted to do was to hold on to him and keep him safe. The rational side of him knew he could never have talked him out of it, and knew it would have been wrong to do it, almost a betrayal of that unspoken bond between them that just _understood_. But there was no rationality anymore. John was gone and he'd be dead soon and Alexander would never stop trying to honor his memory and it would never be enough.

 

He was still rooted to that spot, where he'd hugged John, where they'd said their goodbyes, where he'd kissed him, where he'd watched him leave. His gaze was still locked onto the closed door, still wishing for time to go back and freeze itself with John still there.

Nobody had spoken, but when a loud sound was heard outside, the sound of a door belonging to a white van banging closed and tires scraped the pavement as they drove away, when John wouldn't change his mind and come back and try to hide, Angelica let out a sob. Suddenly the world was real again; time was moving and they'd lost their friend, they'd lost John and there was nothing left to do but cry. Lafayette and Angelica were hugging each other on the floor, their crying loud and unrestrained. Hercules sat on the couch, his face resting on his hands as his back trembled and silent tears fell on the floor.

Alexander finally turned from the door and looked around himself. He walked towards the table and placed his hand on a blue notebook. John's notebook. He held it in his hands and imagined John would feel naked without it, without a place to pour his thoughts. He wondered how he could have left without it. But there wasn't anything for John to write anymore. The empty pages of that notebook would never be filled because John would never _be_ anymore. He would never think new thoughts or feel new feelings and something about that notebook was what made Alexander finally crumble down, crouch into a ball on the floor and weep.

He held the notebook close to his chest, hugging it like he had done John, as if those pages were the last thing left of him, and in a way they were, and Alex wasn't sure if that made him sad, or angry, or relieved to at least have that.

 

-

 

The next thing Alexander remembered was waking up on Lafayette's couch. He was swaddled in blankets and he felt warm and safe for the few seconds it took his brain to catch up on what had happened. John's notebook was still on his chest and his eyes hurt from crying them dry. His head hurt, his whole body ached. He glanced at the clock. It had been twelve hours since John had been taken. He took a deep breath as he formed the words in his mind; _he was dead_.

Lafayette came out of the kitchen.

"Hey, dear. Did you sleep okay?"

"I... I guess..." Alexander's voice was barely a whisper. It hurt to speak, to force his brain to put words into what he was feeling. "Thanks for..."

"Don't mention it. You're welcome to stay as long as you want, I don't know what the situation will be at the dorms but I'm sure it won't be... Easy."

"The dorms... Yeah..."

"I made some coffee." Lafayette pointed at the small table and sure enough, there was a steaming cup in front of him. He straightened up and grabbed it, making sure the notebook stayed safely on his lap. The warm liquid helped him feel a little bit more human and he felt a new wave of gratitude towards Lafayette. He must have been suffering so much, John was his closest friend, and yet he was there, tending to a boy who only knew him for a few months.

"Thank you, Laf." Words seemed to come a bit easier now. "I... I don't mean to be a burden, you're suffering too, I just wish..."

"Alexander, don't do that. We're not competing for any suffering trophy here. We've both lost someone dear to us and-" His voice broke, he had to take a few seconds to compose himself. "And I know he meant more to you than you might have realised. You can lean on me, don't close yourself off. John- He wouldn't want that, and you know it."

There were tears in both their eyes, but it was okay. Lafayette was right. He couldn't shut this out, it wouldn't be fair to John, it wouldn't honour him in any way.

"I keep thinking about how... I was too late. All this time, I... It took a final moment for me to realise how I felt and it was too late. I didn't... I could have..."

"You were his _friend_ , Alexander. And if things had played out differently, maybe you could have been something else, yes. But don’t dismiss what you two had, don’t make it out to be any _less,_ because John cherished that friendship. You made his life better, Alexander. I won’t let you say you were _just_ friends because I know how much that friendship meant to John, and I’m sure it meant just as much to you, too.”

There was silence between them. Alex knew he was right, but everything hurt so much he couldn’t recognise what made sense out of all the thoughts running through his head.

“I won’t pretend to know what you’re going through, dear, but don’t for a second think John was anything less than real with you. I’d seen him interact with many people in many different ways, but I’d never seen him react to someone quite like he did with you. We all love you, but he… You really did change his life, in ways he couldn’t quite put into words.”

“He changed my life too. In ways I can’t quite put into words. And it hurts so much but… I meant what I said. I wouldn’t trade this for a normal life. Even if I only got to know him for a few months I… I won’t ever forget him; and everything he taught me and everything he let me be will always be a part of me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to grasp the enormity of what he meant to me.”

Lafayette sat next to him on the couch and they lay there hugging for a while, silent tears running through their cheeks and a small warm feeling of being together.

 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Lafayette’s phone rang.

“Turn on the news. I’m coming over.” Angelica hung up as fast as she had spoken and Lafayette reached for the remote. He didn’t think he was strong enough to face another backlash, but they could never expect what appeared on the screen.

 

Alexander immediately tensed and rose from his seat, standing frozen in front of the tv where the face he’d memorised stared at him, tired and blinking and real.

 

John was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I'm officially on break from college for about 3 weeks so I'll stop with the whining notes for a bit at least :)


	26. The Public Face

The images alternated between a close-up of John's face and a wider shot of the room, a wide, ornamented space where officers lined the walls and a number of members of the press were sitting on chairs a ways away from the short stage where John stood, handcuffed and held strongly by the shoulder by a stern-looking officer. The feed was muted, the sharp voices of the newscasters accompanied the footage.

_"This is coming to you LIVE! from the Council Main Building, where a press conference is about to start. We can already see the terrorist being held by a few officers, and we should be getting details about him in just a few seconds."_

_"Oh dear, look at his face! He's certainly a dangerous individual."_

_"Well, Karen, I think odds are this boy has some kind of mental condition. Attacking a Council building is no joke and there's no rational way to justify such actions."_

_"True, true. Do we know anything about him yet?"_

_"That's what we're waiting to find out. And there's Council Member Greene! The conference is about to start, let's see what he has to say."_

Alexander would never forget those silent moments as the presenters got quiet and Greene slowly made his way to the microphone. The calm pace at which he walked, the urge within himself battling with the fear of hearing what was about to be said.

He would have a hard time sleeping remembering what John had looked like. The image had blind-sighted him. He hadn't expected him to be alive, but it was still hard to be happy about it when he looked so... Unlike himself. Eyes sunken-in, pale and tired, his presence just... Dim. He might not have been certain of it yet, but he understood John, and a lot better since the previous day's events. He hadn't been afraid of dying, but Alexander couldn't help the feeling he would have been afraid of this.

 

It was hours later when things really sunk in. Lafayette's voice alternated from loud to whispering on the phone and the air around the apartment was heavy; it hurt to breathe. _"The boy is in love!"_  Greene's voice sounded non-stop in his ears, a condescending and happy cheer that reeked of everything wrong with the world. _"We've been in touch with his family and were able to piece together this young man's story, and let me tell you, books will be written about it!"_  The previously solemn mood of the press conference had turned into chuckling reporters and cooing sounds. Alexander hadn't been able to tear his eyes off John's face, which was permanently shown in the split screen, until they'd mentioned the name Martha and Greene had looked back at him and he had sported a grimace that Alexander refused to include in his compilation of John's smiles.

That's what this was, apparently. A love-sick boy, desperate to find his soulmate, crashing into the Council's offices to try and find information on any girl matching his arm that would feel like _the one_. The press suddenly loved him and the symbol he was of the strength of the Soulmate bond. Alexander had ran to the toilet to throw up.

-

"Please, stop."

Angelica froze, her nervous pacing halting as her father's firm voice appeared from behind her.

"I always knew you were... You would... All I want is to protect you and your sisters but I'm afraid I won't... _They_ don't like me."

Philip Schuyler sat down on his daughter's bed and she finally turned towards him. He looked more tired than she'd ever seen him.

"They used to whisper behind my back, about your mother's death, about Eliza... They scoffed at the special treatment she got, not knowing the amount of favours I did, the extra work I put myself through just to try to give her a shot... I always knew it wouldn't be enough. Even with all the privilege I could grant her she'd still walk this world with a blank arm, a sign on her that others would read as defective. As unworthy." Angelica silently sat next to him. He grabbed her hand. "I remember the look on your face at her Reveal. I'm so proud of you for that moment, how unwavering you were, how brave. It was only a matter of time, until... I'm not blind, Angie. I know what's going on, and I know you're a part of it. But I can't lose you. I can't... I can't lose you, okay?" His eyes were filled with tears, and Angelica had never seen her father like this and her heart was breaking and she felt like she was eight years old and the world made no sense and maybe she felt that way because it really didn't.

She hugged him and they stayed like that for a while, crying and tense with all the things they knew they could never say, all the hurt they couldn't erase. Angelica spoke softly, timid for once in her life. "Is... Is he going to be okay?"

Philip Schuyler didn't answer and they both held on a little tighter.

-

"Angelica's laying low, something about her father.. She wouldn't say much. Hercules won't leave his brother's side, which is, well... It makes sense. It's just you and me, dear."

"Laf..."

"If you're going to ask if it's true, I will have to hit you, Alexander. And I do not enjoy violence."

Alex actually chuckled softly at that. Whatever else had happened, Lafayette remained himself and that thought warmed his heart a bit.

"Of course not. I just... I'm going to ask this just once, because I don't think I'll be able to think about it after the answer, which I already know, but... Is there any way, at all, that we can get him out?"

"I..." Lafayette looked to the side and actually pondered his answer. Alexander already heard the _No_  but seeing his friend consider it added some feeling to his chest. "There's some people I could talk to."

 

00000238876193-[marquis]

please, answer

00000882119301-[nelson]

I'm here. What is it?

00000238876193-[marquis]

are you encrypted?

00000882119301-[nelson]

Always.

00000238876193-[marquis]

it's about Lovesick

00000882119301-[nelson]

You knew him?

00000238876193-[marquis]

unimportant

he needs help

how impossible do you reckon it is?

00000882119301-[nelson]

Impossible enough.

Even if the story is now to their benefit, security hasn't slackened.

It's too dangerous and most likely unprofitable.

Unless you have some sort of secret organisation I'm unaware of...

00000238876193-[marquis]

we're not so lucky, i guess

has anything like that been tried before? a rescue?

00000882119301-[nelson]

Yes.

00000238876193-[marquis]

was it successful?

00000882119301-[nelson]

No.

Please be safe, Marquis.

We don't need any more martyrs.

-

"I'm sorry, Alex. I don't know what we can do... We talk a great deal, but at the end of the day, we're just a couple of kids."

"This is not what he wanted." Alexander knew he was muttering, appearing quite insane on the outside. And maybe he was. "This is not noble or dignified or true to himself this is the opposite of what John meant to do when he gave himself up!" Even as he raised his voice, he knew Lafayette was right, there was nothing they could do. They had no resources, no knowledge of even where John was. Anything they could try would just be suicide and was exactly what John had been trying to avoid.  "I just can't... I can't sit here and do nothing. I can't..." He looked down and spoke softly now. Lafayette sat next to him and rubbed his back gently. "I can't go back to the dorms, not alone. That room will drown me without him, it's so full of memories... So full of little pieces of him... Even being here, I sit on this couch and think I'll look up and see him sprawled on the floor, writing manically on his notebook. And that notebook is all I have left of him now." He caressed the spine. He had barely let the object out of his sight since he'd found it.

Lafayette was silent next to him. He opened it carefully, hands running through the pages softly as he found the last written page, only halfway through the notebook. Half of it empty, void of him...

 

Alex took a deep breath, found a paragraph's beginning and read to himself.

_It's strange to think of how different my life could have been. How much our context defines us. He's grown up in such a strange place; strange to me. From the small glimpses I can get from him, I've built this picture in my head. In my mind, it's always sunny there. The people are kind. The shelves are filled with books. There's no grand Reveals. There's childhood sweethearts, there's heartache and break-ups and everything I've ever read about from Before. I walk down a street where children play and I see her waving at me from her bookstore, openly inviting me in. I go further ahead and walk the edge of a stream, where fish swim freely and the trees grow wild. I find the place he talked about, the Tallmadge farm. I climb the water tower and he's up there with me as we gaze out into the horizon. Looking anywhere but towards the City. The world is so big and we're so cramped. There must be a place where I can breathe fresh air._

The tears had stopped running down Alex's face. He closed the notebook, feeling that much closer to John and with a sad determination.

"I think I need to go back home, Laf."


	27. The First Letter

Hey.

     I won't ever send this and you won't ever read it. I don't dare write your name, won't risk this being found and you being in danger. But I know who you are and that's enough for these words to bring me some solace.

     I wish I could tell you not to worry, that I'll be fine. But I promised myself I would never lie to you, and things aren't looking so good. You should know, though, that I have no regrets. You know how I feel about life, and if I'm to be ended today, I'll be glad to count the days I've lived as my true self. I'll look them in the eye and show them that I have something they can never take away. Just as you said. I'll show them that I've lived, and I've learnt, and I've loved beyond what they could even imagine.

     Yet the thing that pains me, that keeps me up, is knowing that my death won't really be the end. Knowing that I'll become a headline they can twist to whatever angle's best for them. And if they lie - _when_ they lie, who will be left to refute them?

 

     I'd like to believe that if at least one person remembers me, the real me, then they won't be fully successful. I hope one day you'll tell someone else about this man you knew, who was stubborn and proud, who held your hand as you opened your eyes to the truths of the world. This man who you honoured with the chance to witness your mind come alive. This man who loves you, with every doubt and fear that comes with it. I hope you somehow know that; I hope in that fleeting second when we kissed, you felt it. I know it's not possible, but right now, in this place, I'm allowing myself to be a little bit loose with my rationality. Because I didn't feel anything transcendent when our lips touched, no fireworks or pieces coming together in my heart like Soulmates often speak of. You just took a step forward and kissed me and, what else would I need to know? What magical feeling could be more wonderful than knowing you somehow _wanted_ me close to you? That you chose to kiss me out of your own, insanely beautiful free will. I never thought I'd know that, and I'll be forever grateful to you.

     I can't say it's enough though. I miss you. I close my eyes and see you, yet I'm relieved when I open them and I'm still alone. It means you're safe; it means your face hasn't been dulled by these cold lights, your skin hasn't been bruised and scratched, then painted and made up and forced into a smile. It means the spark hasn't faded from your eyes. I fear it might have fled from mine. So I picture you sitting on your bed, hunched over a book. Your hair's a mess because you've been running your hands relentlessly through it. Do you even know that you do that? When you're studying, when you're particularly focused on something. Like you're massaging your brain to let the words settle in more easily. Or like you're shaking things inside your head to make room for more knowledge.

     I try not to, but sometimes I picture myself out there with you. Sitting beside you on our bench. We don't talk, we just sit, together; and it's enough. I cherish the memories of those nights we shared; I don't think I was ever aware before of the immense feeling of peace they gave me. I wouldn't say I've ever been a calm man, at least I haven't been in years, but you... You settled my restlessness in those moments. Even before you knew all of me, you were reaching inside of me. And the weight of everything I felt and everything I knew was somehow lifted, and for the first time in such a long time, I was just me, and you were just you. We were just two men, sitting on a bench, looking out at the river.

     I'll never know words strong enough to thank you for forcing me to walk the city with you.

 

     I'd always thought I was free, and I was, in a way. My mind was free. But I hadn't allowed myself to feel anything. Then we met, and you slowly managed to make me open up without even realising. Falling in love was something I never thought I could let myself do, and you made it seem so natural. When I look back now, it makes sense. How could my heart not choose to love you when you're the one who set it free? You, with your words and your thoughtfulness. My mind was brave and bold, but my heart cowered within my chest, and I struggled to understand how you could think so much and care so much at the same time. Until I could see it, until I could feel it. Until I'd look at you and the hurt of not being able to tell you the truth didn't come from my head but from my soul.

 

     You're not my soulmate.

     I'd choose you a hundred times over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in dystopian illegal imprisonment  
> we write letters  
> we write letters  
> (sorry)


	28. The New Perspective

The sun shone brightly and it felt wrong. But the world kept on spinning no matter what, and Alexander knew that the numbness within himself would not reflect anywhere else. He knew the only thing that had changed would be the chit chat of the people in the City that were exchanging thoughts on the Council's new fabricated love story. Maybe there was something, a raw need within human beings. Something that called for the thrill of unregulated coupling, the excitement of not knowing and taking chances. Something that made John's story, his fake, young-and-in-love story, so appealing and inspiring to everyone. Maybe the Council knew that if that need was satisfied vicariously, witnessing these events unfold, the Soulmate system would be safe for a while longer. If they showed that outlandish love stories could happen within the confines of their rules, they would be safe.

Even knowing it wouldn't happen, Alexander hoped they burned. That this tiny flicker that the Council had showed would turn against them, set the people ablaze and ignite the yearning for something real in their hearts. He hoped to see fire in everyone's eyes, as he'd seen it so clearly before in his friends'. As he knew he held in his own.

 

Alexander turned around, laying on his back, on his bed. His childhood bed. Staring at his childhood ceiling, decorated with a glow-in-the-dark universe that seemed to mock him in its resemblance of John's face; of John's entire self. He was a profound unknown, entrancing and frightening at once. Yet at the same time there was something that called to Alexander in an almost basic level. There was a kinship that he couldn't quite put into words, something he'd felt from the first times they'd talked. The feeling that they could make each other's lives better. The feeling that he wanted that man to be a part of his life somehow. Something that intensified as he got to know him, as he got to shine a light on who John really was, and see himself reflected in so many parts of him. It wasn't only John's knowledge that had made Alexander grow, it was John's soul that had helped him really look back at himself and see who he really was. How can you even try to explain that?

-

"Alex? Are you awake?"

His grandmother knocked on his door.

"Yeah, come in."

She entered the room to find him sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring straight at the lower end of his bookshelf. With a bit of an effort, she sat down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, slowly caressing him in the way she always did when something was troubling him.

"Are you alright, love? I'm glad you're here, of course, but... Did something happen?" She spoke softly and with care, with the same openness as always. Alexander had always felt comfortable talking to her about anything that went through her mind, always getting a respectful response. Even when he was little and wanted to question everything, he had valued how she never brushed his questions off, and tried to answer as earnestly as possible. Never afraid to let out a sigh with a smile and say _"You know what? I'm not sure."_

"I'm not sure. I mean. Yes, and no? There's just..." He ran a hand over his face. "There's a lot going on, back in the City and... in here." He tapped his head and looked at her with sad eyes.

"That never made you sad before, though. You were always eager to get those gears turning, right?"

Alex laughed. A small thing but a laugh nonetheless.

"Yeah... It's just... How do you reconcile what you know with how you feel? What your rational mind tells you and what you just... Can't explain. What you hope even against all odds..." She was quiet. "I'm sorry, I'm being cryptic, I know. I just... I've learned some things. About the world, and..."

 

He looked up at her and stopped talking. They knew each other so well, and the flicker in her eyes was something he didn't remember seeing before. Some mixture of recognition, and dread, and relief. It was only for a moment, as she tried to hide a sharp inhale and followed it with a forced cough. He knew she was going to lie if she spoke so he cut her off.

"You know."

There was no doubt, and she couldn't deny it.

He didn't know if he was angry, really. He had never really been mad at his grandmother before. She had always been kind and patient, and even when she put an end to his tantrums he might have resented her for a few minutes, but he had never felt anger towards her. Was this what that was? This feeling of betrayal, of a giant secret living with him all his life and never once coming out of the mouth of his earnest, respectful, honest grandmother?

"You know." She echoed and sighed. "How are you taking it?" She tried to take his hand but he flinched away.

"How am I _taking_ it? Nana, I... I've lived a lie my whole life! You let me believe..." He didn't want to raise his voice, but it was happening. There was a mixture of nerves and despair in his pitch that kept wavering, at the words that kept escaping him. "I could have... Why? Why didn't you tell me, Nana? Why didn't you trust me with this?"

"Alex, I..."

"All my life, all my life I've been waiting for this... For this person..." He stroked his arm in a way he hadn't done in months. "I felt so inadequate that she wasn't here, I was so desperate to find her I hurt a girl I cared about... I felt so alone... I could have known, I could have known it wasn't so... Why didn't you tell me?"

"Love, I'm sorry this hurt you. I didn't tell you because... Because I wanted you to have a choice."

"What?" Alex's heart stuttered. At his grandmother's words, John's voice echoed within him. Choice.

"A choice, Alexander. I wanted you to be free to choose for yourself what to believe. If I had told you, raised you like this... I've seen kids grow up like that, full of resentment. I didn't want you to be like that. I didn't want to force my beliefs onto you, our community's ideas even. I didn't mean to make you suffer, or to lie to you. I wanted you to know, but I figured I could wait until you were older, until you could learn this on your own terms."

"So you gave me these books..." He caressed the covers lying around him.

"You were always so smart, but after your parents died... I was scared at first, I admit. As you grew up, I saw the strong man you were becoming, and I didn't think anyone could ever force you to be something you didn't want to. I wasn't going to be the exception."

"Maybe you should have. Maybe I should have grown up knowing all this. I would have been better prepared to deal with..."

"It could be. But I made my decision and I can't regret that. And you got here on your own anyway."

"No." He smiled. "Not on my own."

Alex looked down and had to fight tears. For once, they weren't tears of sadness, or of anger at the whole situation. John was gone, yes, and it hurt and it enraged him still; but these were happy tears. Because getting to know him, getting to share those few months with him, and getting to learn so much about the world by his side had been a blessing. Even if things had taken an awful turn, even if they might never see each other again, Alexander couldn't regret a single moment spent with John.

"The boy they're looking for, he... I was his roommate. No. I was his friend. I _am_ his friend. We were... He helped me open my eyes. And now..."

He didn't know. And that was just the thing, with John. He couldn't describe what he was to him, what he meant. He couldn't clearly define anything around him and as anxious as it made him there was this sense of freedom in that fact. John wasn't his family, he wasn't his soulmate. He was just this kid who appeared in his life, his structured and defined life, and opened every possible door. From an orderly path, Alexander was now facing the abyss of endless possibilities. It was frightening, facing the unknown, but his life was now unequivocally _his_. That was the most incredible gift, and he would forever be grateful to John for it.

He couldn't let someone so important disappear.

"I know it makes no sense, but I need to help him, somehow."

He looked up and saw her grandmother's eyes, wet with the tears that kept streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh Alex." She held his face in her hands and took a deep breath. "You are so much like your mother, love."

"My mother?"

"There's a few more things I've failed to tell you. I hope you'll understand and forgive me."

"What are you saying?"

"Your parents were rebels." She blurted out, as if the words had been itching to get out of her mouth for years. "They were part of an underground group called the Seeds of the Revolution. I always thought it was a silly name, but they truly believed they would change the world. I was scared for them, but I must say, I believed they could do it, too. They would... I never knew much, they didn't share many details so as not to endanger anyone, of course, but I know they investigated the Council's doings thoroughly. Some of their actions were even heard of in the public sphere, you know? Small attacks on Council facilities, things they tried to brush off and paint over but they weren't fast enough."

Alexander's mind was racing. Thoughts flying through his head so fast he couldn't grasp any one. His pulse was fast.

"Except... I guess you must be figuring out by now that they didn't just die in an accident. I'm not sure what happened, I was offered the information but I refused it, I didn't think it would help me to know the details. I just know they were on a mission and they were caught. After that... Well, you must know what happens. People disappear, never to be seen again. I wanted to... Wanted to run to the Council and start banging on every door. Demand that they at least turn in their bodies so we could bury them, so we could mourn properly but... The Seeds, they talked me out of it. They were right, I wouldn't have accomplished anything and... Well, and there was you to think about. You were so little, and I couldn't leave you alone."

Alexander was silent, trying to absorb all of this information and make sense of it and how it fit into everything he knew. Reorganising his mind once again.

"I guess a part of why I didn't tell you was out of fear. I couldn't have bared it if anything happened to you. I thought I might keep you safer... I know it doesn't make much sense, love, but some matters are more driven by the heart than the mind."

"Yeah, I know." It was easier, focusing on that. On forgiving his grandmother, who had loved him and raised him in a supporting household. Who had bore the weight of his parents' history, who had mourned alone. "It's okay, Nana, I... You don't need my forgiveness. You've done nothing wrong."

"I'm sorry, Alex, this must be a lot to take in." She ran her hand through his hair, as she used to when he was little. It was comforting, and it helped Alex mute some of the voices that raged through his head. He needed to process this, but it would be impossible to manage all at once. There was a whirlwind of emotions going through him that he didn't know how to cope with.

"Your hair's gotten long, love."

"Yeah. Actually, would you cut it for me?"

"Like when you were a kid?"

"Yes. Maybe no bowl this time."

They both smiled and the weight was a little bit lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems I couldn't escape the freckles/stars analogy. Oh well! :)


	29. La Familia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [see translations at end notes]

What does _familia_ mean?

My father said it meant a safe space. For a long time, when I was little, I thought that was the actual translation. The corner of the playground with my favourite swing was  _familia_. The top branch of the tree I climbed at the back of our house was _familia_. The third-to-last step of the staircase of my elementary school, where me and my best friend sat during lunch, was _familia_. It was only later that I knew about languages, about the diversity of the huge world that had shrunk. About different words meaning the same thing, about sounds fading away from history, never to be heard again. My father was a Native. His family had lived on this part of the world since before the Final War, before the Nation. When there were different countries, different cultures, different words. My father spoke perfect English, but within our home, his tongue twisted and turned and delivered words so foreign to my ears that felt like music. _Familia. Respeto. Amor._ He never said those words in any other language than his native tongue. My childhood home was a complex melody of sounds, hailing from different places but joined together in a wonderful hybrid. It was special and unique, and I held that experience almost as a secret. I never talked about it, didn't know if any of my friends' houses had that sort of magic hidden inside. It felt so intimate, so much our own, that it would have been wrong to discuss it out loud.

When my parents talked in whispers among each other, it was always in this language I could never fully understand. _Silencio. Peligro. Cuidado._  I wouldn't learn the meaning of those words until much later, but the cadence of their voices relayed it all the same.

I was seventeen when my house got quiet. When my father started saying _family_  and _respect_  and _love_. And it was this loss, this absence of music that made me realise the value of what I had. I was angry. I had something special and beautiful and it had been taken from me. I started walking to the furthest edge of the Tallmadge farm at night. I'd stare out into the distance, leaning against the wooden fence, and whisper: _Música. Familia. Libertad._ Every Tuesday I went without fail, no matter the weather, or the homework, or the chores. I sneaked out of my room and in that secluded place I felt the relief of a secret that was no longer quiet.

Two months into this, I heard an echo.

I'd say _mirada_ and from somewhere in the darkness a voice would say _reflejo_.

I'd say _secreto_  and the voice would say _compartido_.

We wrote poems in the dark that faded as they left our mouths. I hadn't seen his face, but together we kept the secret alive. We communicated in scattered words, in short and choppy sentences. _Esto es especial_  I said once, not sure if he would understand, if it would come through. Unaware of any grammatical rules and manners of speaking. _Esto es mi vida_ , he replied. I didn't know it meant this was his life; I didn't know he was saying it meant everything to him. I felt it, though. I said _Sofía_  and he said _Joe._

We echoed secret words for months, until one night when I spoke _Amigo_  and there was no answer. I waited the usual seconds, I waited a full minute but there was nothing but _silencio_. I frowned to myself. _Compañero_ , I tried again in vain and I fell on my knees to the ground, thinking perhaps I'd made it all up. Perhaps this had all been an elaborate way for my mind to help me keep the secret alive. Perhaps the music would die again. _Estoy sola,_ I said for the last time.

Then I heard it, from behind me, closer than ever. _Nunca._

The edge of the Tallmadge farm was _familia_.

 

Joe didn't hear the music in his house, his parents spoke in monotone and had never written a melody. But he had found a book locked inside a case in the attic of his best friends' house, and suddenly the world was polyphonic. His mouth was filled with words about the history of a place named Uruguay that he soon realised was the same ground he walked on. He started calling himself Joaquín in his inner monologues, if only to feel closer to the hero he read about. A resistance man. Maybe he pictured himself like that, the last line of defence of a melody that seemed destined to perish. "I won't let it", he used to say. "Nothing that brings beauty to this world could be meant to disappear." And he did believe that, he believed in beauty, in diversity.

We got together almost every night at the same spot, talking for hours in the moonlight. I told him about my upcoming Reveal and the fear I had that I would be bound to someone forever, and he, already eighteen, showed me his bare arm like a bold statement. I kissed him that night, and Soulmates suddenly weren't so scary anymore. 

 

Joe made me proud of our melody, but it was Rachel who made me bold. Our daughter grew up in a home where sounds were free, and instead of keeping it safe within our walls, she carried that out to the world with her. She wove bilingual sentences regularly and stood up to the bullies who complained about her speaking in tongues. She developed her own language and knew it made her stronger. "This is not shameful, _mamá_." She'd say. "Words open up our minds, help us understand the world, _¿cómo no voy a usar todas las que tengo?_ "

When she was fifteen, she met Jamie. He had transferred from the city with a black eye and a scar across his cheek, and those things that made the other kids look at him sideways were the ones that drove her to him.  They say love makes your life brighter, but Jamie showed her all the ways in which life in the City could be grim. She learned that every freedom she cherished was not universal, and a rightful sense of indignation started to grow on her. I was scared when she talked of revolution and black-painted arms, but I knew my daughter. I knew she wouldn't be contained. And even as it hurt, even with that feeling in the back of my mind that flashed a danger sign, I was proud of her. Her reveal came and went and she wore another's name shamelessly on her arm as she built her life with Jamie.

 

Then one night I found myself crawling into my grandson's bed and hugging him, trying to find a way to explain his parents weren't coming back. Wishing Joe was still alive; he always had more words than I did.

I put my song away that day; locked it in a crate, left inside a room on the far edge of my mind. It hurt to have so many sounds and know that Rachel wouldn't compose her melodies anymore. And the boldness she had instilled in me was replaced by the fear that the joyful little boy that walked clumsily around my house would feel any pain at all.

-

"I wish I had a better story to tell, but it's the truth. And sometimes the truth is painful and doesn't really help, but..."

"It's the truth." Alexander placed his hand on his grandmother's, tears in his eyes and a grateful smile on his face. "And that's enough, Nana. Thank you."

They sat in silence for a while, the afternoon sun illuminating the kitchen with a warm summer glow that made it seem like time had stopped. Alexander supposed he should feel sad, or hurt; he should feel angry, he should mourn his parents all over again and resent his grandmother for keeping the truth from him for so long. But it didn't happen. His heart was bigger and his mind was more focused than ever. He hadn't hesitated before, he had always known what he was doing was right; even as he saw John walk out the door for the last time, even as that dagger stuck itself in his chest, he was sure. That certainty came from somewhere inside of him, a place that John had helped him find but that felt like it had been within him all along. It would have been silly to think his parents had passed on a rebel gene, but hearing their story meant something. He was so young when they passed, he often wondered how he would have bonded with them; what they would have had in common, what they would have talked about. He could now picture heated debates about the Council over dinner, his father's eyes alight with passion. He could imagine his mother handing him book after book and asking his opinion over coffee in the evening. He didn't want to dwell on the what-ifs, on who he might have been in a different version of his life. He had walked his own road to get to where he was, and there was something priceless about that; it had been his choice after all.

"Is there... These people they worked with, are they all... Is there anyone I could talk to?" His grandmother gave him a knowing smile and stood up.

"Let's go."

"Where?" He got up and followed anyway.

"To meet your mother's Soulmate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations!  
> Familia - family  
> Respeto - respect  
> Amor - love  
> Silencio - silence  
> Peligro - danger  
> Cuidado - beware/careful  
> Música - music  
> Libertad - freedom  
> Mirada - gaze  
> Reflejo - reflection  
> Compartido - shared  
> Esto es especial - this is special  
> Esto es mi vida - this is my life  
> Amigo - friend  
> Compañero - partner  
> Estoy sola - I'm alone  
> Nunca - never  
> Libros - books  
> ¿Cómo no voy a usar todas las que tengo? - how could I not use all [the words] I have?
> 
> [I don't think I ended up using anything that particular, but just in case, this would be Rio de la Plata Spanish (Argentina/Uruguay), which is what I speak, and it's corresponding with the geographical location of Nation City. It's slightly different from what's taught in schools (which I guess would be more Spanish Spanish? or Central American? not sure), so if anything seems weird, that's probably it.]
> 
> This was SUCH a hard chapter to write. I wanted to give his grandmother more of a voice and it was hard not to try and go off on a tangent of her life while at the same time trying to convey something of who she is. I'm not thrilled with the outcome but it's here and it's something I wanted to do.
> 
> Anyway: New characters appearing soon! ;D


	30. The Second Letter

 

_Hey._

_I'm not sure what I'm doing. Writing always came easy for me, but right now... I don't know._

_My grandmother said this might help. I only told her that we knew each other, but I don't think I'm very good at hiding how much this is affecting me._

_I miss you._

_I miss you._

_I feel like an idiot for being in pain, when I'm out here in the world and you're stuck in there, wherever that is, trapped. It's useless to try not to imagine how you are, how they're treating you. I hope my imagination is too wild in the tortures I can picture, I hope I overestimate the Council's cruelty. Some days, I even hope I got it all wrong; that you were never truly a rebel, that you really are in love with some woman and tricked us all to get to her. Because then you wouldn't be suffering now, you wouldn't have lost your chances. Then, you'd be just a man looking at his soulmate with stars in his eyes, and I would just be a lonely man taking comfort in his grandmother's arms from the heartbreak he's feeling._

_It's strange, you know? Being back at Valley Forge. It feels the same but completely different in my eyes. I know I've changed, my point of view has changed, but I can't help but feel this place has changed as well. As if it was waiting for me to leave to develop a new aroma. It still feels like home, I guess, but as the home of someone I used to be. I don't know what home is right now, if it's here, if it's the City, or if it's just you._

_I wish I could show you the town, take you to the main square on Sundays, when everyone takes their work to sell. Walk with you to the hill, and past it, to the stream. Lay on the grass there and hear the birds chirp. Climb the water tower together, and look out at the world. Is there a window where you are? Can you see the same sun I see? Are we staring at the same moon at night?_

 

-

 

John hurriedly hid a scrap of paper between the bricks in the wall as he heard feet shuffling outside. He crouched in the corner. It was the easiest way of avoiding a gratuitous beating when the guards opened the door. As if he really was at flight risk. As if he could get two steps out in the hallway without someone spotting him. As if there really was any danger in being in a room with him.

He didn't know how long he'd been in there for, seconds seem to stretch into hours and days. He knew he was skinny and weak, he knew was crying a lot. There was no one left to tell him to let go, there was no one left to be strong for. He tried not to think of himself as broken, to believe there was still some flicker of hope inside of him. And there was; he kept writing to Alexander, kept making an effort not to lose his mind, trying to commit to paper his thoughts. He tried not to dwell on the reality of his every day life. Of the senseless questioning. Of the beatings. He numbed his ears to the screams, ignorant as to whom they belonged to. Who else was trapped in there? Wherever _there_ was.

The door opened and John sighed in relief as he recognised the tap of a cane. He looked up to meet half-lidded, kind blue eyes. There were two kinds of guards: the ones that took him to whatever new torture awaited him that day, the ones that roughed him up and spat on him and that John called thugs in his mind; and there were the ones that brought him food and surveilled the state of the room every once in a while. Francis was one of the latter. The one who most often came to him. He had probably scared off quite a few of them in his first few days (Hours? Weeks?), screaming and scratching at everything that went near him. It had taken him a bit to realise the difference between the two types of guards. He had grabbed Francis' arm roughly once, thrown him against the opposite wall of the room. It wasn't an escape plan, the door was shut and nothing could have been attained by hurting him, but John still felt, then, that violence might give him some form of power in there. Instead of retaliating, or calling one of the thug-guards as they usually did, Francis had caught his breath, sitting against the wall, and looked up at him. His eyes were always troubled, but this was the first time John had actually looked into them and seen something, something that made him settle. There was an intensity that John knew well, and he slid down onto the floor, sitting down in a mirror of the man in front of him. They stayed in silence for a few moments, staring into each other's eyes, until Francis looked down towards his own arm. John followed his gaze as he lifted the sleeve of his sweatshirt, exposing a bare arm and what seemed like burn marks. It was only a moment, and then Francis was up, knocking on the door to be let out. It was only a moment, and the thugs were inside, taking John away once more.

"Good morning, Francis. Or is it good evening?" He never answered -John only knew his name from hearing a thug yell at him once-, but it was the only person John felt safe enough to talk to. And he would go mad if he didn't talk to someone. "I wonder if it's raining outside. I always liked the rain." he said as Francis grabbed him by the arm and escorted him outside. This was new. Francis never took him anywhere; no one ever took him anywhere without at least a few punches.

It had actually been a while since the last time, John realised as he looked down at his arms and saw the newest bruises were already yellowing. Once he looked up he noticed the hallways he was walking were different too. His sense of direction had completely vanished, but the floors were suddenly cleaner, white walls instead of grey ones and polished ceramic tiles beneath his feet. Francis turned, still steering him through his arm, and John saw sunlight for the first time in forever.

The room looked like a classroom, and Francis sat him down in one of the chairs and stood stiffly behind him. There were a few men in the room, each escorted by two thugs. They talked among each other, not even acknowledging John's presence. He wasn't sure whether to feel wary or comforted by that invisibility.

"So this is how it's going to work", one of them said without introduction, as they all simultaneously turned towards him. They kept their distance, seemingly more out of disdain than fear. "You're going to behave, you're going to look presentable and pleasant. You're going to do exactly as we say and act _normal_." He waved at one of the thugs and he hollered something out the door. A few moments later another guard walked in, his hand resting on the lower back of a troubled-looking girl.

"Martha, darling! How wonderful to see you." The same man approached her and gave her a hug. She responded stiffly. "How is your dear father doing? I haven't seen him in a while, naturally, but do send him my regards. I'm sure he'll be back with us soon, after all this is settled." Martha gave him a small smile and a courteous nod. The conversation seemed to be charged with a tension John was unable to decipher, but as soon as her name was spoken he'd pieced together what she was here for. Why he'd been escorted by Francis. Why he hadn't been beaten in a while. _Presentable_ , he'd said. Of course.

"Well!" The man clapped his hands once and John jumped at the sudden sound. He noticed Martha wince slightly. "This is an exciting moment, isn't it? Martha Manning, this is John Laurens, your one and only soulmate!" She didn't look up at him, her gaze stuck somewhere between staring at her own feet and lifting her chin up. He couldn't take her eyes off her. Who was this woman? What had she done to be paired up with him? She was wearing short sleeves, he could clearly see his name written on her arm. He suddenly missed his old wristband.

She moved one step forward, urged by the guard whose hand hadn't left her back at all. There was silence for a moment. "Alright, they're shy! How adorable." The men laughed. "Let's give them a little privacy, shall we?"

John looked up at him at that, and he stared, trying to hide his surprise, as everyone left the room, leaving him alone with Martha and Francis, still perched behind him. As soon as the door closed, Martha's shoulders released tension and she sighed. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off.

"We're not really _alone_ , are we? I mean. We're not alone. It can't be."

A whisper, a raspy voice he'd never heard before, brushed his ear. " _Cameras. Never alone."_  Francis said, and he nodded without turning, a motion Martha mimicked in understanding. She walked more confidently now, grabbed a chair and sat down in front of John. She looked past him, at Francis, and smiled genuinely.

"It's good to see you" she said, and immediately changed the focus of her eyes to John, their shimmer lost at once. "I've waited a long time to meet you."

"I..." She grabbed his hand, an interruption.

"I can't believe what you did for me, John. It's unheard of, it's amazing." She gazed into his eyes with an intensity that didn't seem to match the scared person that had walked in the room a few minutes earlier. "But I guess some things are too important not to take risks for, right?"

She practically jumped from her chair, pulling John up with her and enveloping him into a crushing hug. He placed his hands softly on her back, relishing in the warmth of an affectionate form of human contact. He was starved for it and hadn't even realised it.

She put some distance between them, placed her hand on his cheek and kissed him softly. She stood back, giggled, and looked back at him with a suddenly shy attitude. Batting her eyes at a fast pace, looking anywhere but his face.

"You'll want to get better at that, John." She looked up, her lips a straight, serious line, and winked at him.

 

And then she was gone. And then he was back in his cell. And then he pondered over the words she'd whispered into their hug.

 

_Play along, John. Play along for now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> The story is changing quite a bit now that the guys are apart and things are developing more with the fight, so let me know what you're thinking! :)


	31. The Tallmadge Farm

Alexander had never considered the possibility that his parents weren't soulmates. Not even after learning the truth, had it ever occurred to him that he might have such a close example of chosen love. And now he was walking toward the edge of town to meet the man whose name branded his mother's arm. He wasn't sure what to feel, or why he was even meeting him; he thought about who his own soulmate might be, and what feelings could emerge if he met her now. He wasn't sure of anything other than it would be a mess.

His grandmother stopped walking on the edge of a crop field and looked back at him with a smile. She extended her hand and pointed at a man working away from them, a silent gesture that he'd walk over to him alone. He took the next steps with a sense of dread. Whoever he was, he probably knew him, they'd probably met countless times along his childhood. This man knew he was the son of his soulmate and had never said anything. Could he really be okay with this? What would Alexander mean to him, in the grand scheme of things, the son of the woman he was meant to be with but chose someone else?

"Alexander! Back already, son?"

He stood up and patted his soil-stained hands on his worn out jeans. George Washington offered him a warm smile, just as he always had. Alex couldn't remember single instances, but he remembered the feeling of this man's kindness in every one of their previous interactions. He was a kind face, a helping hand, a guiding push.

"Mr. Washington, I..." He looked back towards his grandmother, who was already walking away, leaving them alone. George chuckled.

"She has a way, you know? Of bringing you into situations." He looked at her retreating form fondly. "I assume by your unease that you're not here for a simple catching up?"

"She... Um..." Alex frowned. This was unexpected and strange, yes, but he could still form coherent sentences and hold an adult conversation. He looked up at George with confidence. "I've been learning some things, about my family. I hope I'm not being rude, but she said you were my mother's soulmate and that I should talk to you. That you'd be one to know about... About what they did, my parents. About how they died."

Alexander felt his chest tighten and it seemed to suddenly dawn on him, what he was saying. He was asking questions he never would have thought existed a few months prior, and he was going to get answers. He was going to learn about his parents in a way he hadn't even suspected, in a way that connected with him more than ever. His heart was at his throat with a mixture of fear and excitement. He met George's eyes and felt slightly at ease.

They sat down on the ground, in the middle of the small crops, in the middle of the field, on the edge of town. The Outsider Community. Alex smiled to himself.

"Alexander, please let me start by saying I am so sorry about what happened to your parents. I know I've said it before, but I hope you can understand a bit more now. We all felt responsible for what happened, even if we knew there was nothing we could have done, and they stepped into that situation willingly." He sighed. "I'm going about this all wrong, son. Let me start at the beginning."

And Alex listened.

He listened to the story of how George had met his mother. They'd been casual classmates until Jamie had arrived and the things Rachel talked about had become less casual and more socially aware. Then they'd become friends. The three of them would hang out and talk about Before, about the Council and about revolution.

"Rachel was so excited for her Reveal" George chuckled. "She was looking forward to spitting her truth to the poor kid who got her name back, enlist him in our little rebellion. I was terrified of possibly breaking someone's heart. Not a minute after I saw my arm the phone rang and it was her. She couldn't stop laughing, couldn't even ask if my arm matched hers, but I laughed right back and we both knew." He sighed and looked up at the clear sky. "I won't lie and say I never wondered, if we were truly meant to be together. It can mess with your mind, this." He lifted his arm and Alex could see his mark for the first time, the name Rachel written in cursive. There was a small flower next to it. "I got this after she passed." He traced the flower with his thumb. "I loved your mother. She was my closest friend, and I... I wish I could have done something. I know it's irrational, but I kept thinking of all the ways I could have prevented her death. Been there with them... I was never supposed to be an easy operation, we were well aware of the risks. But I guess we were young and bold, and we were careful but... We weren't careful enough. We planned everything but the team's extraction was supposed to be easy. They must have been happy it had all worked out so well and then... I don't know if they let their guard down, or if it was just bad luck, but a patrol found them. There were a dozen people, your parents included. Everybody ran, but... We never saw any of them again. The few of us that had stayed behind decided to shut things down. It was such a heavy loss, and it just served to reassert the Council's power over us. We... We never even saw their bodies, we don't know what happened to them, we won't ever know." Tears fell down George's cheeks and he took a deep breath. "We felt ashamed, still being here, it felt wrong. We kept going for you. For the people they'd left behind. For the moment they would come to us and ask about their loved ones."

"George, I..."

Words escaped Alex. He remembered all the times George had talked to him as a child, all the times he had felt safe around him. He could suddenly feel his mother's love in all those actions. He could feel a swell of pride within his chest, knowing his mother was so loved by the man in front of him. But his mouth opened and nothing came out. His eyes were threatening tears at this onslaught of emotion and he thought of Eliza. She wasn't his soulmate, but could he maybe, sometime, be her friend? Be as close as George was with his mother?

"I don't want to be presumptuous, Alex, but I hope you can consider me your friend. If there's ever anything you need, count on me."

Alexander let a tear fall freely down his cheek and swallowed hard. If anything, all of this was strengthening his resolve. He couldn't sit idly by while John suffered.

"There is something, actually. I... I need a revolution. Do you know anyone who can help with that?"

George wiped a tear from his eye as his smile turned into a smirk.

"Come on. M's going to love you."

-

Ten minutes and a lot of turns and doorways later, Alex was beneath the barn. In a big underground complex with dozens of people milling about.

_John would love this._

He didn't let this thought bring him tears or sadness. There was a rebellion, there was organisation and people and _a chance_. He felt a drive inside of him, the same flame that John had fanned months before. The world didn't seem so dreary down here. Down here, he could imagine getting John back, both of them working with these people, their minds at work with a broader chance.

As soon as they stepped into the main area, a big golden-furred dog came running at George and jumped at him affectionately.

"Woah, easy Nelson, easy."

"I never knew you had a dog." Alex kneeled and ran his hands through Nelson's soft fur, the motion relaxing even with the hyperactive dog trying to decide who to go to for more petting.

"It's not really mine, it's... He was a friend's pet, and when he..." He sighed. "We're a big family here, we take care of our own, Alex. No matter if they're furry like this guy here... Or if they've been away for a while."

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment and Alexander felt safe. He felt bold. He could almost see his armour strengthening, feel himself growing taller, stronger.

"George! Have you seen-" A tall young man ran up to them, a half smile and a scar on his left cheek. His eyebrows lifted now, a childish look of surprise on his face that was instantly recognisable.

"Ben? Is that you?"

"Hamilton! Took you long enough, man. College kids are supposed to be smart, you know?" They both laughed and Ben patted his shoulder with a strength Alex wasn't expecting.

Ben Tallmadge had always been a bright kid, funny and outgoing, friendly with practically everyone at the community. Alexander had shared many classes with him, and though he wouldn't say they were friends, he had always appreciated him. Never in a million years, though, would he have imagined Tallmadge as a strong man in the middle of a revolution. It must have shown on his face, for Ben absentmindedly scratched the skin around his scar and offered a sheepish smile.

"What can I say? I'm more than meets the eye, Ham."

"As little as I know about all this," Alex motioned to the complex around him. "I'm glad to see you here, Ben."

"Benjamin." George's voice was firm and commanding, Nelson had disappeared and he was standing straight next to Alex now. "Is M at her station? I'm taking Alex to meet her."

"Should be, sir. Can't imagine the Commander taking a break right now. I'll see you around, Hamilton! Good to have you on board!"

Before he knew what was happening, Ben was gone and George was leading him up a set of stairs and into an office, papers everywhere in a sort of organised chaos that painfully reminded him of John's bed, back at their dorm room, in a life that no longer existed. Alexander swallowed the lump at his throat and stared up at the woman standing from the seat behind the desk. A woman he'd seen many times, chatting with his grandmother at the grocery store, riding her bike around the community. A kind face, a warm smile. The head of the revolution.

"Alexander, it's good to see you." She hardly seemed surprised to see him. "How has the City treated you?"

It was a simple question, and perhaps it was the context, or her tone, or his own mind, but it felt a lot more specific than the words entailed.

"It's been eye-opening, Mrs. Washington. In more ways than I could have imagined."

Martha chuckled, her strong facade breaking for a second. Or not a facade, Alex thought, but a side of her receding to make way for another one. The one that he knew best.

"I haven't been called that in a while, love. Down here I'm just M. Our marriage is not the most important thing in this context. Can you imagine?"

They smiled widely and Alex instantly liked this new side of Martha. M.

"So, you want to join us?" She sat down and motioned for him to do the same.

"I'm... Not exactly sure who _us_ is, to be honest. I just know I can't do anything all alone."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Alexander." She straightened her back. " _We_ , are what's left of the Seeds of the Revolution, George and I, and a few other seniors, so to speak. We stopped open actions when you were young. After your parents died. But we never stopped working, never stopped thinking and never stopped opening people's eyes. It's not in vain that we're an _Outsider_ Community, love.

We've taken in a lot of younger people through the years, some you probably know from your childhood here, others have come from the City seeking refuge. For a long time we worked as a shelter for these people, but there's always been an underlying rebellion at work here. How could there not be? These are folks who have lost their families, who have seen people they care about turn their backs to them because they dared to think differently and love differently. Because they never got any writing on their arms..."

Alex thought of Angelica, the fierce resolve behind her eyes, the anger at her sister's treatment. He imagined Eliza alone, shunned.

"I have not come here for shelter, M. The people I care about... They're not safe. And I can't stay on the sidelines anymore. I'm here if you're willing to do something, if not... I can find my own way."

M smiled confidently and turned her gaze towards George.

"Told you."

Alex turned to see George smiling softly and tried not to feel too put off by being out of the loop. Martha turned back towards him.

"You know John Laurens, don't you, love?"

"Yes. He's... He's my closest friend. And I don't intend to let him suffer at the hands of the Council anymore."

"Good. Neither do I."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long, but life's been super hectic and I just now got a bit of breathing room.  
> It's the eye of the hurricane though, I'm in one of my last college classes and it's super demanding, plus work has been tough as hell.  
> So, updates will be less frequent for a while, can't really say how long, but I don't want to give up on this story. Hopefully some of you won't either. <3


	32. The Hope

Things were looking up for John. He'd been moved to a white room; it even had a window, a skylight. With bars and only the sky to look at, but there was light and a feeling of night and day. There was a bed, it was clean. No more thugs came along, no more beatings. Only Francis bringing him meals -which hadn't improved but in frequency- and Martha coming over for 'dates' where they would talk about inane things and John would work hard to find the subtext in her words. It was exhausting him, and whether it was his own rusty mind or Martha's cryptic language he didn't know, but he was finding no secret messages in their meetings. He'd started to think he had imagined her being on his side at all.

Things were looking up, there was talk of a wedding and an eventual release. John supposed he should be relieved, happy even. But he wasn't. Senseless as it was, he felt more comfortable when he was a mistreated prisoner. He knew his place then, he felt his fight. Now, he didn't know what he was, he was stuck in a role he didn't understand and didn't want to play.

 

He wondered if he was capable of feeling happy anymore. A tear escaped his eye as he wondered if he was capable of feeling at all. He felt disconnected, numb. He tried to think of Alexander, to picture his face, but the features weren't quite right. That wasn't the man he knew. He'd lost him. He allowed himself to cry in silence.

-

"You're not eating, John." Francis soft voice startled him from his thoughts. He was sitting down next to him on his bed. "You need to eat, you have to stay strong."

"I am eating." John didn't look back at him, his gaze lost in front of him.

"Barely. I'm getting fat from all the leftovers I steal from you." John could tell he donned a small smile, an attempt to lighten the mood and get him to acquiesce.

"I'm sorry, it's just... This room."

"You miss the dingy decor?"

"Kind of." Francis turned to look at him, brow furrowed. He slowly turned his gaze around the room, up at the skylight, at the still locked door. "It's confusing. I can't get comfortable yet it seems like that needs to be a conscious effort now." John turned to look at him and knew it was a mistake. Francis was kind and welcoming, and there was a part of John that wanted to submit to him and accept him at face value, to be his friend and laugh with him and forget everything else. But he was still a prisoner, and Francis was still his guard, as soft-spoken and gentle as he might be. He couldn't let himself forget that.

"I understand, honestly, I do..." He looked down at his hands for a moment, then back up at him with an intense stare. "I know you don't fully trust me, I don't expect you to..." He sighed, a sad smile on his face. "But you're safe now. We're... We'll make sure of it."

John placed his hand on top of Francis', managed a crooked smile and a half-hearted "thanks", willing the conversation to be over.

He didn't want to think about Francis, about what he might have gone through, about how he might have got to where he was. Whether he was there willingly or as a working prisoner. Whether he had family outside, whether anyone missed him, whether he slept in a room similar to his every night. If he started thinking about that, his heart would break again, and he wasn't sure how much room for anguish he had left within him. He'd always known this world was cruel and unfair, but there had been highlights. He had his friends, he had his readings and his rebellious writing, he had his mind and his knowledge that he was subversive just for existing. But hidden away here, tucked under the Council's ornate rug, he felt naïve in that thinking. He felt functional and sad and he was tired of running from that. He was tired of holding out hope that he'd be able to escape. He wasn't ready to give up, he didn't want to be, but the stalemate was exhausting and his idle mind was weary.

-

"Darling!" She almost ran into the room and hugged John with a momentum he wasn't used to. Martha was always annoyingly enthusiastic around him, and he still wasn't sure how much of that was an act and how much was her actual personality. He tried to imagine her outside of this situation but he had trouble thinking of the real world. "I have missed you so much." She stepped away only slightly and kissed his nose. He'd gotten good at pretending the affection didn't bother him, so he smiled at her, grateful she'd skipped his lips today. He'd realised much too soon that every time she kissed his mouth the memory of Alexander's lips faded farther behind. It was silly, he knew, but he was running out of things to hold on to.

They sat down opposite each other on John's bed and she held his hands, the smile never leaving her face. Her eyes were shining and her lips were moving, talking about an apartment she'd seen. An apartment for them, for after the wedding, for when he was out. He wondered absently if Martha actually believed that would happen. It was what they had promised, the serious, suited men who had come to him the day after he'd changed rooms, after they congratulated him on the 'progress' he was making. But since when would John believe any promise the Council made?

"Oh! And the best part, love." She squeezed his hands and he forced himself to focus his eyes on her, try and pay attention. "The building's pet friendly, isn't that wonderful? I've always wanted to get a dog, but my parents never allowed it. I'm thinking of naming it Nelson, what do you think, John? Is that a name you'd like?"

John's heart skipped a beat and Lafayette's focused face flashed in his mind, crisp and clear, every detail sharp in his memory.

"Nelson?"

"Nelson."

The strong stare in Martha's eyes was back, that determination he definitely hadn't imagined on their first meeting was there. John wasn't misreading things, they were thinking of the same person. A mess of pixels in John's mind, but perhaps a real person to Martha, an actual friend who could help them. Had she been in contact with Laf at all? Were there people outside working to help him?

His eyebrows set for a second, his lips pursed. And then he relaxed. He squeezed his girlfriend's hands in his own, rubbing a thumb on her knuckles. He smiled with his mouth and his eyes, tilted his head in an endeared gesture and spoke softly.

"I think that's a great name, sweetheart."

Their kiss felt like rebellion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry my update schedule's all over the place, I doubt I'll be able to upload more often until the end of the year because college and work are eating my life and my sanity, oof.  
> I hope I'm not letting the quality of this diminish too much.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	33. The Choices We make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO.  
> It's been ages, yes.  
> And I'm sorry but my ending of 2017 was a giant mess, it's only now that I can even think of writing again, but this story hasn't left my mind and it's still something I want to put into words.  
> So yeah, here's a longer chapter than usual, hoping it will help me get back in the grind and keep this story going.

The way things were decided in the Council was simple: the officials got together, agreed on things, and things were done. Nobody outside that tight circle was privy to the negotiations, if there even were any, or the real reasons behind any decision. There were official announcements, official explanations, and not much else. The Seeds of the Revolution worked differently. Alexander wasn't sure how to describe it; there was certainly a distance in hierarchy between the older members, who had been there the first time around, and the rest of them, but there were also many young people who seemed to have a strong voice, who were listened to and respected. He was in a room right now with about thirty people. M was standing to the side; to an outsider she might seem like an insignificant member, if not for the fact that everyone listened attentively every time she spoke.

A woman they called Livingston was in the midst of it all, calling people up to speak and maintaining order in the meeting. She was short and looked barely as old as Alexander himself, but everyone listened to her regardless, without a need for her to raise her voice or give out stern looks. Alexander watched the first minutes of the meeting in silent awe; he'd been in many different social situations, especially since moving to the City recently, but never had he seen this unspoken level of respect present. Never had he seen a leader who needn't step on other people's toes to assert their place. Never had he seen a soft-speaking girl command a room with such ease. 

It made him yearn. It made him imagine a world where this was the norm, except when before such dreams had seem far-off and naïve, they now seemed possible. He was living in that world, in a microcosmos of what could be. ' _We hold these truths to be self-evident'_  he remembered reading once at Lafayette's apartment _'that all men are created equal'_. Angelica had scoffed when he'd read that aloud with a tone of wonder, but the phrase rang true to him now. The fact that somewhere, sometime, someone had believed those words and written them down had given him hope, and surrounded by these people now, he felt he was seeing them in action.

 

"...Alexander Hamilton."

He was suddenly called to attention upon hearing his name come out of Livingston's lips. The room turned to him and nodded, a silent welcome. He wondered for a moment if every new member was allowed in one of this meetings as a sort of greeting.

"Which is as good a segue as any to the main topic we need to discuss tonight." M's voice rang clear through the room as she walked calmly between the chairs. "The Laurens Situation."

Whispers broke out all around. Alexander hadn't seen a TV since he'd arrived the day before, but everyone seemed to be aware of the Situation, as she'd called it. He tensed up instinctively; it was strange to think of it as such, as a _situation_. It sounded off, removed, abstract. It didn't sound like the closest person he had being held prisoner and sold off on a random marriage. It didn't echo the pain and anguish of losing him. It didn't burn like the rage that was urging him into action.

"I thought we'd agreed not to get involved in that, Commander." A nasal voice spoke from behind him and, before thinking better of it, Alex's head was turning rapidly to frown at the tall and lanky man it belonged to. He was frowning too, first at M's figure still pacing the room, but now at Alexander, in a sort of silent challenge.

"Actually, Thomas, if you'd recall what we spoke of was to wait until further intel was gathered as to what precisely the situation entailed. There was never a finality in any decision made, and the data we had was confusing at best." Livingston replied firmly, eyes not leaving her clipboard as she scanned through the pages idly.

"So is it safe to say we've acquired new information?" Ben Tallmadge spoke up, and his tone was serious but hid a bit of the excitement Alexander recalled from childhood mischief. Many of the faces around him echoed that sentiment; there was caution, of course, but also a thrill and a need to make a stand. His mind tingled in anticipation as George stood from his seat.

"I've been in contact with someone on the inside. I've been assured that, although he's still detained in a Council facility with all the security that entails, his own guard has slimmed significantly, and he's being granted more liberties. Small comforts, of course, but there's talk in certain circles that there's soon to be a wedding and it's been said that a formal release would follow it."

Alex tried not to flinch at the idea of them marrying John to a random girl. John standing at an altar, looking smart in a suit that fit him just right, his gaze lost and his lips pulled in a smile that didn't fit his face. One of those smiles he would wipe from existence if he could. The smiles that were lies that trapped John in the same cage he'd struggled his whole life to make disappear.

Would they truly release him just like that? A marriage certificate, a wedding ring on his finger and a bride attached at the hip. Did his freedom cost so little? Did his freedom cost so much?

"Are we truly to believe that?" Tallmadge echoed his thoughts. "Since when has the Council released a proclaimed terrorist in exchange for so little? Hell, since when has the Council released anyone? That can't be it, Wash."

"We know, Tallmadge." M was speaking again and everyone sat down now. "We believe there's some kind of execution to be staged, either at the wedding itself or afterwards, framed as an attack on love and whatnot. This whole circus, the whole Martha story, belittling Laurens' actions to those of a young kid in love, it's all functional to the Council's narrative. His capture was very public, so disappearing him wasn't an option, that much we're certain of. And..." She chuckled softly, a sound that wasn't mirthful but strained and angered. "Hope is a bigger manipulator than fear. The people already fear anyone that would upturn the Soulmate System and everything the Council stands for, painting Laurens as an evil character wouldn't bring anything of power to the situation. But a love story... That feeds right into what they need to nourish the most. Even misguided criminals act out of love. Out of soulmate-love. Out of standardised, Council-approved love." There were a few single claps, an exclamation of agreement here and there, as Alexander watched M switch from answering a question to giving a rousing speech. The tension was building and he was swept with it in excitement. "John Laurens is being made into a story they can tell their children, a story that goes against everything he believes in. And from what I've learned about him," her eyes locked with Alexander's for a moment and he nodded at her. "it is a fate he would choose death over if he could. And wouldn't we all?" A chorus of "Yeah"s rung across the room and Alexander found himself shouting his agreement as well.

M waited until everyone had quieted down to continue in a calmer tone, losing none of the intensity. "So yes, we could leave this man be. We could let him be married off to some woman who claims to be his soulmate and figure his way out of that trap by himself. But that would only strengthen our enemy. That would only add another number to the figures of people whose hopes have been crushed. That would make every boy and girl, man and woman, every person out there looking reassert their belief that whatever they think, whatever they feel, is only right if it aligns with what they're being told. That even those who seem rebellious, who seem to break the mould, are only fitting the lifestyle they've been sold over and over again. We've all been that person, we've all had to struggle to remove those bindings from our minds and find ourselves, accept ourselves, love ourselves. Do we really want to let them feed those limits on more people? Do we really want to give them another argument to justify their hate?" The room was silent now, deep breaths were being taken and resolve was being built up. "This isn't the greatest battle of them all, and we won't tear apart the Council and their systems by breaking out this one man from their prisons. But I'm tired of letting them get away with everything. If we have a chance to stick it to them, to deprive them of another weapon to use against us, then why the hell not take it?"

There was applause all around. Cheers and battle cries and Alexander thought he heard a _fuck the Council_  in the voice of Ben Tallmadge. He smiled with a resolve he'd barely ever felt before.

 

-

 

The meeting had the whole underground buzzing. News got around fast, evidently, because even those who weren't there were talking about it, the impending action forming an almost palpable feeling in the air. Alexander sat on a table and looked around as he ate, feeding off the energy of the very place he was in. He felt more hopeful than ever before; he only had to wait now for the senior officers to come up with an actual plan and send them out on their mission. John felt so close.

"I suppose you're quite proud of yourself." Thomas blocked his line of vision, standing right in front of him with crossed arms and a deep frown. "Just waltzing in here like you're the freaking messiah and getting everyone up in arms. Have you any idea what you're causing?"

"Excuse me?" Alexander refused to let the other man's stature and bearing intimidate him. He looked him over in what he hoped came off as a derisive stare, but he was sure his eyes betrayed him when he noticed his arm: instead of a soulmate mark, Thomas had his whole forearm covered in black ink, from his wrist to just under his elbow. Whatever the intention behind that choice, it made his presence all the more powerful to a kid who'd only stopped believing in Soulmates a few months ago.

Thomas bent down, closing in on Alexander's personal space, his face close to his as he hissed. "You're going to get people killed, and I won't ever forgive you for that." Neither of them moved and Alexander made an effort not to break eye contact.

"Thomas, what on Earth are you doing?!" It was Thomas who closed his eyes then, letting out a frustrated sigh as another man grabbed him by his elbow and pulled him backwards. Alexander noticed his arm was black as well. "This is not the way to go around this, if you have such a problem with this decision you know the proper channels through which to express it. You don't go around bullying the new kid to make yourself feel better!"

"I'm not trying to make myself feel better, James, I'm just making sure he knows what we're risking for him!"

"For him? Thomas, you know this isn't about Hamilton, or even Laurens for that matter! This is what we signed up for, it's a chance to make a difference, I thought we agreed it was worth it when we came here."

"We were desperate when we came here! We had nowhere safe to be! I'm all for the revolution but not when it means I might lose the most important person to me-"

"Well, I've already lost him!" Alexander was standing up now. His voice louder than he could have anticipated, and the conversation they were having with no regards to his presence was halted suddenly as both them and everyone nearby stared at him. At his heaving figure, at the desperation in his voice. "I've already lost him." He repeated, quietly now, and he slowly sat back down and tried to calm his trembling hands as he stared at the tabletop.

 

Thomas looked down at this kid, at his trembling figure slouched onto himself. He swallowed a knot in his throat, the image so familiar, the feeling resonating within him with renewed strength. He was older now, he'd been hardened and closed off by his circumstances, but he remembered feeling this raw. He remembered because it was what fired up within him when M had spoken them into action, when the possibility of something happening to James had become real again.

Both of them sat down across from Alexander, moving slowly and laying a gentle gaze on him. They gave him a few moments to try and pull himself together, to gather his breath and control his trembling. In just a second, with those few words, he had managed to cool down Thomas' anger. He'd managed to appear in front of him not as a troublemaker, not as a threat to his peace, but as a human being, as someone who cared for someone and who had lost them. And that was something everyone there could relate to. Thomas couldn't find it within himself to hate him anymore. His hand instinctively found James' on top of the table and he squeezed it tight.

"We're sorry, Alexander. Both of us." James looked over at Thomas, meeting his apologetic eyes as he nodded. "We shouldn't have upset you."

"It's, uh... It's fine, I guess." He still wasn't looking up, speaking softly and hesitantly.

"It's not though." Thomas accepted. "I'm... It's not easy, being here, being part of this. We all believe in the cause, of course, but every day it's a risk, and well... Today that risk became a lot more real. The truth is, I don't know what I would do if I lost my boyfriend like you have."

Alexander looked up at that, a frown covering his tear-stained eyes.

"Boyfriend?" His eyes darted from their eyes to their joint hands to their arms and face twitched in confusion. James and Thomas looked at each other, unaware of the turmoil inside Alexander's mind.

"I'm sorry," James replied somewhat hesitantly. "From everything we've heard, we just assumed John Laurens was your boyfriend. Is that not the case?"

"I..."

"Sorry, we're being ridiculous. It never stops being a conscious effort, taking your mind away from the Council's mindset. Romance is not the only important thing, it'd be just as devastating to lose a close friend."

"We'd know, wouldn't we?"

For a moment Thomas tried not to think of Dolley. The three of them had been friends since childhood, an inseparable force, dreaming of adventures and a life spent together until old age. But then their Reveals came, and Dolley's arm was revealed to be bare. He remembered vividly the strength of her hug as she cried, remembered the stern look of her father as he took her away. The cold words of his own parents when they explained she'd been sent away. _It's the best for her kind_  they'd said, but the words felt sharp and cruel. He allowed his mind to go over memories of her; they'd never known what had happened to her, never saw her again, but he refused to forget her.

 

Alexander bit his lower lip, his mind going a thousand kilometres a minute. _Boyfriend_. He wasn't stupid, he could understand the meaning of that word, despite having not thought about it before. Thomas and James' held hands, their earlier conversation, their blackened arms. Just when he started to think he had a grasp on the reality of things, something happened that made him feel like a toddler in a world of grown ups. The truth, though, was that with all the hours he'd spent thinking of John, the thousands of letters he'd written him in his head, he was still unable to pin down exactly what he meant to him. He'd replayed their kiss a million times in his mind's eye, the feel of John's hand on his cheek, the glimmer in his eyes when they parted, and the indescribable feeling, the undeniable urge that had led him in that moment not to think and just act, pulling himself closer to him and giving in to what his heart was telling him. For all he wrote, he still didn't have the right words for it, but he knew the intensity of what he felt for John well, and what it would mean to have him back by his side.

"It's not that, I, uh... We didn't... I barely..." He drew a deep breath. "He was taken from me before I... Before we could figure out..."

James' hand found his and applied a gentle pressure, a reassuring motion, and Alexander felt tears escape from his eyes again.

"We had so little time, I had so little time to... To understand, to let myself feel, I... I'd never even considered... You two are..."

"Easy, kid, don't strain yourself." Thomas spoke with snark but kind eyes, and Alex felt himself relax slightly. "We're boyfriends, yeah. But we... It wasn't always this easy to say it, it took years. To understand the truth, to accept our feelings to ourselves, to discover the kind of relationship we could have. This world, it... it doesn't make it easy for people like us. But there's so much power here, in being ourselves..." He looked at James for a moment, with such adoring eyes, Alexander's heart skipped a beat at the intensity of it all. "In being true to our hearts. You don't need the words to describe it, Hamilton. Just the fact that you dare feel it, can be enough."

Alexander's breath was even now, and his chest was swollen with pride; at himself, at being here, at hearing these words from someone who'd actually been in his shoes before. He felt a different kind of hope arise within him, not the hope that they'd get John out, or defeat the Council for good. The hope that John himself had spoken of so many times, the idea that minds and hearts could be opened, could be freed, allowed to feel without restrains. The hope that there was a place between the lines where they could escape any social limits and just _be_.

"I'm sorry" Thomas said after a minute. "I shouldn't have attacked you like that, I let myself get carried away... I can't say I'm thrilled about this whole thing, but I... I can't be against it either. I'd like to believe I'd have your strength if I were ever in your place. You're a brave man, Alexander."

"What Thomas is trying to say is, it's never an easy choice to risk ourselves for a cause, and it doesn't get easy with time, it never stops being scary. But we stand with you. And we'll find our place to help save Laurens, however we can, however we're able to."

"I don't know what to say. I can't... John was the one who brought me into all this. The one who helped me see the truth, and he... We had a little group, and every once in a while he'd gather us all together, we'd roll our eyes at him and insist he was ridiculous but he still did it." He smiled fondly at the memory. "And he'd remind us that being there, doing what we were doing, however small it might seem, it was a choice. And that it was a choice we made daily, and that it was a risky one. And that we could choose to stand down, at any point. That he wouldn't hold it against us, that we were free to make that decision too. I'm not as mindful a man as he is, but I try to remember his words as often as I can. Being here, the meeting, all of this, it's so different from what I'm used to. People so willingly and fully devoting themselves to the cause... I would have never expected this kind of support, and I won't ever take it for granted. So thank you, for speaking to me and for... Whatever you might do."

 

James and Thomas smiled at him before getting up and walking away. Alexander was left alone at his table but he didn't feel lonely anymore. He missed John terribly, but he felt him present in what he was experiencing there. His presence so alive in a place that was a part of his oblivious childhood. It seemed to form a circle, coming back here only to feel closer to him than before. He took a deep breath, wiped the tears from his eyes and ate his cooling food, thinking of how John would reprimand him for skipping a meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you still here, thank you for your patience, thank you for reading.  
> (I feel I've forgotten how AO3 works, so if you see any formatting error or something, do let me know!)


	34. The Freelancer

Three days had passed.

Ben Tallmadge had given him a few chores to keep him busy but three days had passed. There was still an energetic buzzing all around, but time was moving and Alexander was getting anxious. He needed to know what was going on, but he'd seen M walking with purpose from one corner of the facility to the other, always with Kitty by her side taking notes, always busy. He had to trust she was getting things done.

He couldn't stay still.

 

He climbed outside just as the sun was setting on the horizon. He looked up at the water tower and, for a moment, he considered going up there like he used to. But what would he gaze at without John by his side?

He walked for a bit until he noticed George's silhouette, sitting on the ground by the barn, Nelson resting with his head on his lap. As he got closer, he noticed George was using a tablet, the likes of which Alexander had only ever seen in the hands of Council officials.

"Nice tech, George." He sat down next to him, scratching Nelson's scalp.

"This old thing? It was salvaged in a mission ages ago. This model probably hasn't been used in a decade, but it works just fine if you know what you want to do."

Alex tilted his head to peer at the screen, sighing softly at the sight.

"I have a friend who does that."

"Does what?"

"Whatever it is you're doing, connecting with other rebels. I always thought it was weird, trusting someone that's just lines on a screen."

"You think there's spies in the network?"

"I don't know. Wouldn't it be easier to lie if you didn't have to look people in the eye?"

"I don't know... I think lying's easy for humans. Being truthful, nowadays... That's the real challenge. And being anonymous does make it easier." Alex hummed. "Also, we've got a shit ton of security, son."

At that, he chuckled. He fondly remembered all the knickknacks Lafayette would spread over the table whenever he was to connect. And how much he'd trusted some of the people he talked to.

Alexander's hand stilled where it was petting the dog as a realisation hit him. It could be a coincidence, but.

"George, do you have an alias in there?"

"Yes, of course. Even with all the security it's always best to be on the safe side. Nobody uses their real names."

"Right. And you wouldn't happen to be named after this guy right here, would you?"

George turned for the first time to look him fully in the eye, with a slightly wary stare.

"Alexander?"

"Yes?"

"Who's your friend?"

"I believe he goes by The Marquis."

George sighed, looking relieved, and started chuckling. Alex was sure now; George Washington was Nelson, Lafayette's trusted informant. All this time, he'd been connected to him, to this huge piece of his own history, without knowing it. He felt a little bit safer.

"That's a relief. There's been... There's talk, of course, of Laurens' situation. And the discussions have been led mainly by two users. One of them, the Marquis, your friend. I've been talking to him for a long while now, so I tended to trust him. But there's another party that's been acting weird. They're fairly new to the network but their activity has been on the rise, mainly involving trying to contact people who knew John, or who might know anything about his situation. Most of us are wary of such activity, and your friend has mostly stayed away from them. But I've been worried he might trust the wrong person."

Alexander frowned, looking out at the field in front of him. This thing, everything that was happening, was so much bigger than him, and it spread so wide and through so many different channels he had no idea about. He missed Lafayette. He missed their team. He missed not feeling alone.

The Underground was great, most of them were friendly and helpful and he'd been feeling a little bit better since he'd arrived there, but they weren't his friends.

"He's a smart man, Lafayette. The Marquis, I mean. He'll be fine." He took a breath. "I didn't even... I just left. There didn't seem to be anything to be done back in the City and I couldn't be there anymore. I couldn't stay still knowing John was in pain. I didn't think... I didn't know Laf was still working on this..."

"Would you like me to talk to him? Tell him you're here?"

"Just... Just tell him his little lion sends regards. I think he'll understand."

 

-

 

Alexander was midway through his sandwich when she arrived. There was a strange silence in the dining hall and people whispered as she strutted towards the stairs, the sound of her boots echoing across the room. She stopped for nothing, eyes focused on her goal at the end of the room: M's office. Her thick hair was uneven, and curls covered her face in intervals as she walked with purpose. Alexander followed her with his eyes. She climbed up the stairs, the whispers growing in intensity, and when she shut the door behind her -not even knocking, Alex noticed- the room erupted in excited chatter. He looked around in confusion; he'd been here for almost a week and he'd yet to see anyone be treated with this sort of celebrity status. He had been pleasantly surprised with that dynamic.

Ben Tallmadge sat in front of him.

"Did you see her, Ham?"

"Yeah, who was that?"

He sighed. "You know when we were in like the third grade, and everyone watched that stupid cartoon with the superhero animals? How everybody wanted to be the badass tiger?"

"Uh... I think so, yeah."

"Well, she's that freaking tiger. She's not officially a part of the Seeds, she doesn't want to be tied down. We call her the Freelancer. From what we know, she has no set home, but moves around the City a lot, and comes by every once in a while with intel and ideas. She does... All sorts of things, really. I know she painted a few graffitis denouncing the Council, but she's also a master thief. Word around here is that she used to work as a spy, infiltrated as a Council member's mistress, but that's probably just a rumour."

"Huh. I think I remember seeing someone painting a graffiti a while ago, I didn't get to read it and I didn't get a good look at them but..." He looked up at M's closed door. "I remember feeling powerful, knowing that someone was messing with them in such a simple but annoying way."

He finished his sandwich, enjoying a bit of comfortable silence with Ben. He tried not to let his anxiousness show when he asked: "So, any news?"

His childhood friend looked at him sympathetically.

"I don't know, Ham. There doesn't seem to be much going on yet, but it might be that M's still not done with her plans. She doesn't like to come at us with half-assed ideas, you know?" He sighed. "I've been talking with some of my friends here, and we're all itching to do something. So, like... We understand. I mean, not that it's the same, we didn't even know him, but... We all want to help him. To help you."

"I know, Ben. Thanks. I just... I'm not very good at being patient, I guess."

"Hey, if it was my partner out there I'd have already gone and done something stupid that'd get myself killed."

"John's not... he's not my boyfriend."

"Riiiiight..." Ben's smile turned into a smirk and Alex remembered all the times he'd wanted to punch him in middle school. Playfully, of course. "I don't know who you're trying to fool, man, but you're not that good of an actor."

"Really, we're not... I don't know what we are, yet." He sighed and Ben's face turned softer as he put his hand on top of Alex's.

"Well, let's make sure you get the chance to figure it out, then."

-

 

"Alexander, please join us."

He entered the room slowly after Kitty showed him inside. He stopped for a second when he saw the Freelancer sitting on the ratty couch to the side of the room. Her legs were crossed, and her dark eyes were intensely focused on him. Yet her posture seemed relaxed, in an oddly unsettling kind of way. It felt like she was in command, and for a moment Alex feared that this mysterious woman might be the actual head of this operation, the M he trusted just a pawn set in place to make him feel safe. But then she smiled. Suddenly, she didn't seem like a fearsome leader but just a young woman, maybe even Alexander's age.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Alexander." She talked with a strange accent, something Alex had never heard before, and extended her hand for him to shake. Her grip was, unsurprisingly, firm. "I wish it was under better circumstances, but it's hard for that to ever be the case."

He took a seat in one of the chairs, still a little bit shocked.

"Alexander, this is Maria. She's something of an external collaborator of ours." M smiled fondly at her and Maria returned the smile, albeit a bit shyly. Alex wondered what the story was between them, but didn't feel it was his place to pry.

"It's nice to meet you." He finally willed himself to speak. "I think I might have seen some of your graffitis back in the City."

"Maria, you're not still doing that?" M sounded like a concerned mother, and it seemed so out of place for the strong leader that Alex couldn't fully hide a smile.

"I know you don't approve, but if only one person gets to see my thoughts-" She winked at Alex. "-then, to me, it's worth it."

"It's still too risky, you're too valuable."

"Existing is risky, M." Her voice took a harsh edge. "I appreciate your concern but you know damn well it is not welcome."

M clenched her jaw, looking like she wanted to argue further.

"I'm aware, and I apologise. Now, I called Alexander here because George insists that he's a level headed young man. From what little I've seen of him, he seems to be able to handle his own emotions well enough, so I believe he deserves a chance to be in the know on this particular mission."

"I'm no babysitter, Martha. I don't sugarcoat." Alex hid his surprise at Maria's use of M's full name. As far as he was aware, only George still called her that.

"And that's not what I'm asking. Just share with us both what you've learned."

She stood from her place and paced the room, her hands moving with her words and her eyes unfocused as she spoke.

"John Laurens is being held on the fifth ring of Nation City, in a place fronted as a tax returns office. He's recently been moved to a guest room, and he's regularly fed and kept well. They've stopped beating him and starving him, yes," she spoke with careful coldness while Alexander's heart constricted. "but he's still physically and emotionally weak. My informant doesn't believe they've broken him, but she's not sure he fully believes she's there to help him."

"She?" Alexander interrupted and had to shrink a bit at Maria's steel glare.

"Laurens' fiancé is an old acquaintance of mine. She's part of a Council family but her heart's alliances lie elsewhere. She believes they're being monitored full time, so she hasn't been able to be too upfront with him about this. She's working with someone else inside, and they're making sure John's kept as safe as possible."

Alexander was about to finally exhale when she started pacing again.

"The wedding date's not been officially set yet but from what she's gathered it'll probably be next weekend. She fears there will be an attack once they get to their new apartment; I believe it might happen at the ceremony itself. With the press coverage and the whole city watching, it'd be a great scenario to make a statement strong enough to intimidate any rebellious thoughts out of people."

"We'll be putting together a team." M spoke now as Maria sat back down on the same place as before. "As soon as we get the date for the wedding, we'll finalise the plans, but we're working things out to be able to retrieve him as they move him from his current location."

 

Alex sat back. He tried not to think about the awful things she'd said, about what torture they might have subjected John to in his days in captivity. He knew, of course, that he wouldn't be treated fairly, but it still hurt to hear it confirmed. _Still_ , he thought, _John's the strongest person I've ever met. Whatever's happened, he'll be able to get through it._  He took a deep breath. _I will help him get through it._

He tried to focus on the positive, then. Maria knew where John was. There was someone with him who cared, who was trying to help him. And M was actually working on a plan to rescue him.

It was real, all of it. He might actually get him back. Even as he allowed himself to hope, some rational part of him kept repeating that they might not even find him, that however good their intentions might be there was no guarantee. But now, he could feel the edge of possibility.

 

"You know, Maria, we could use you in the team..."

"No."

Alexander's focus returned to the room as his head spun quickly towards Maria, his brow furrowed in confusion and hurt at the coldness of her words.

"I figured; but it can't hurt to ask, can it?"

"Knock yourself out, I guess." She stood up and headed towards the door. "Good luck then. I'll get a drink and be out of your hair."

"See you soon, dear." M sighed as she exited and turned back to Alex. "She's something else, isn't she?"

"She won't help us?" He felt like a little boy, asking his grandmother why people were crying.

"She's _been_ helping us, Alexander. This is the way she does things, and it's her choice. If all we believe about freedom and rights is true, we ought to respect it." She leaned back into her chair and gazed at the low ceiling. "Not everyone contributes in the same way. And that's a good thing. I tease her a bit and I'll always ask in case she's changed her mind, but the truth is I'm glad she feels confident enough to make her own choices. Even if she knows they're different from what I would do."

 

Alexander showed himself out of the office in a daze, and went through the rest of his day with a fog cloud over his mind.

-

It was after dinner when she came back to him.

"Hamilton." He turned in surprise and felt every eye on the dining hall on them. "Come with me."

Maria didn't wait to see if he followed and started heading through a hallway on the far side of the room. Alexander followed, trying not to flinch at the feeling of being watched. Nobody knew that his meeting with M had included the Freelancer, and as far as he knew, she didn't interact much with anyone, ever.

She led him around the complex as if it was the back of his hand, and they ended up in a secluded dormitory. Maria ran her hands softly on the mattress before sitting down, and looked at him, not with kindness, but not with cruelty either.

"Listen, kid, I don't regret anything I said before. I understand what it must sound like to you, and to be honest, if I cared about what people thought of me I'd be six feet under by now. However... I'm not sure, actually, what I'm feeling. I've got my way of doing things, and there's good reasons why I don't work with you guys. I need my freedom and I value that more than any community you're building here. It's just what it is for me." She looked up and her soft expression changed to a tired and annoyed one. "Dammit, don't look at me like I'm about to chew your head off, sit down Hamilton. We're having a conversation here."

Alexander sat down next to her, still unsure of what was going on.

"I wanted to talk to you because I have an idea of what you might be feeling. It's a wild thing, letting someone in your life like that, and you can't really control the effect they have on you. I don't do that, I don't... Connect with people like that, I just don't. But I've seen it around me a lot and I recognise your pain. I think you should know that the news I got you were encouraging. I know it might not seem that way, but it's a lot more than many others got before you." She grabbed his hand and held it softly, her emotions seemingly bouncing from one place to the next. "I've done my part in helping you, and if there's anything else I can find out, I will make sure the information gets to you. I really hope you get him back, Alex."

 

Maybe it was her finally calling him by his first name, or the warm feeling of her hands holding his. Or maybe it was just about time for him to cry again. He'd been holding himself together ever since he met George, and he wasn't sure where he'd been getting the strength to do so. And next to this tough, opinionated and unapologetic woman, he felt his will break at last. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed, his head finding a spot on Maria's shoulder as she held him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY I'M STILL HERE.
> 
> So sorry for the super long wait. I've had a strange summer (southern hemisphere represent) and I just got a new job and it's so stressful and weird and also cool and I'm having a lot of emotions right now.  
> But this story hasn't left my mind, I just didn't have the energy or the will to sit down and write -or I did, and words just wouldn't come out.  
> I'm still not very satisfied with this chapter but it does what it needs to do, and writing it through such a long period of time actually gave me more ideas on some details of the story moving forward that I think will make it richer.
> 
> Thank you so much for still being here! <3


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